


Heartlines

by agirlnamedtruth



Series: WIPs [On Hiatus] [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Journalism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clothed Sex, Coming Out, Denial, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranormal, Sexuality Crisis, Succubi & Incubi, Supernatural Elements, Swingers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 27,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur's sister goes missing, he can't help but investigate. However, he didn't predict having to deal with Merlin and a fake relationship that feels a little too real in order to find her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: More tags to be added as I go, please be aware that Arthur has some serious denial/issues with his sexuality that might come across as internalised homophobia and that there will be serious elements of dubcon/noncon for some minor couples (not Merlin/Arthur). Please see the prompt in it's entirety in the end notes for more details (and spoilers). 
> 
> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).

Morgana's mouth closed over Gwen's, kissing her furiously. They'd been together quite a while, nearly a year but it was like those first few weeks again. It had caused quite the scandal when Morgana, a highly respected and extremely successful equestrian and riding school owner had taken up with the daughter of the local farrier. She had never been the type to put her love life before her career and as such, she'd never had a serious relationship. Nobody had expected her to have one either. But something about Gwen had broken through her professionalism and her business orientated mind.

It hadn't taken her long to convince everyone that despite Gwen's social standing, they were a serious item and Gwen was welcomed into the elite. She attended parties and was the guest of honour when Morgana competed, which was often as she had a competitive streak that left no event untouched.

Gwen listened as one of Morgana's friends told her she had a friend of a friend who supposedly threw the best parties. They just had to go. A good word would be put in. Sure enough, a gilded card came, a large silver M dominating the front of it. All it had written inside were co-ordinates, a date and an invitation, _come_.

And they had come. Morgana had put on her best Prada shoes and they’d been ready to sip champagne with the best of them. But that never quite happened.

Morgana loved it nonetheless. She wanted to stay forever. She broke away from Gwen's lips, an idea coming to her like a light in a storm.

"We would never have to leave," Morgana said excitedly, taking Gwen's face in her hands. "I could sell everything, the lot. It would be enough. We could offer it to her. Maybe she'd let us stay, look after us."

Gwen smiled back at her, her eyes glistening in the dim light. She had nothing to sell but she felt safe in the knowledge that Morgana would look after her in turn. And _she_ , she would look after them both. "We could stay forever."


	2. Chapter 2

“She did WHAT?” Arthur stood, dragging the phone with him to close his door. “She can’t do that. She can’t sell up,” he finished more quietly.

He regretted losing his cool in front of the whole office. It wasn’t even an office really, more a combination of glass walls and doors in a long hallway but the industry he was in, he knew everyone’s nose would have risen at the sound of gossip like a shark scenting blood. That was investigative journalism for you.

Arthur listened while his father shouted down the phone, trying not to shout back at him. They weren’t angry with each other; they were both angry, incredulous even, at what Arthur’s half-sister had done. Or what she’d attempted to do. Luckily for them all, to sell her business and her house required two separate co-signatures, their father’s and his own. It worked the same for Arthur’s estate. It was a great way of making sure nothing like this ever happened.

“Has she actually gone mad?” Arthur said in a break between his father’s rants. “Did she have a nervous breakdown or something?”

“Nobody knows, Arthur, she can’t be found,” Uther said on the other end of the phone, his voice finally softening.

“Who saw her last?” Arthur asked, his professional brain taking over so that he didn’t have to feel the pit growing in his stomach. “How long has she been missing?”

“You know how Morgana is; she’s probably gone to the Alps and neglected to tell us. However...” Uther left the rest unsaid and Arthur understood.

“I’ll go and see if I can find out for sure,” Arthur agreed, mentally planning his trip already. Lord knows how he’d explain taking the time off work but he was sure his boss, Gaius would let him go.

“It’ll be this new lady friend of hers,” Uther said, judgement coming down the phone line in waves. Morgana’s coming out had hit his old fashioned views hard and there was a lot of water under that particular bridge that Arthur didn’t want to stir.

“We don’t know that, father. You might be right; she might have just booked herself a holiday and forgotten to mention it. She’s done that before. Remember the flap we got in when she took off without a word with Vivian for Paris fashion week?”

“Perhaps. Just find her, will you?” Uther’s voice was tense again and Arthur decided that he wanted out of the phone call before he started shouting again.

“I will. I’ve got to go book myself a train ticket. I’ll let you know what’s going on when I find her,” Arthur said, praying that his father didn’t actually intend to come with him and physically drag Morgana back from whatever luxury resort she’d squirreled herself away in. Luckily Uther just made a sound of approval, wished him luck and hung up.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur hung up his phone. Still no word from Morgana. He’d just about heard her snarky voicemail recording enough times to not even want to find her.

He sighed, rolling his eyes at himself. He didn’t really mean that. All he needed was a “yes, Arthur, darling, I’m fine. Don’t be such a drama queen,” coupled perhaps with the terms “attempted identity theft” or “gold digger”.

Not that he particularly wanted either of those things to happen to his sister but they were better than the alternative. Morgana was level headed most of the time but when she felt an impulse, she really gave herself up to it. That’s why she had spent a good deal of her money doing up a dilapidated stable that she’d learned to ride at as a kid. 

Arthur looked out the train window, watching trees and fields rush by in a blur of green. It was a far cry from how Arthur had grown up, in the lap of luxury in London. But Morgana hadn’t come into his life until she was fourteen and already set in her ways. At first all it had been was a routine adoption. Uther had been her godfather and her parents had both been killed in a car accident. She’d had no other family so it had been the Pendragons or Social Services. As a child of nearly sixteen himself, he’d quietly resented her while pretending he understood. On her 18th birthday it all changed. All the skeletons had fallen out of the closet dragging the dirty laundry with them. Uther wasn’t her godfather. He was her biological father.

It was on that day that he stopped resenting her and started resenting his father instead. It had been a great moment for them because Morgana resented him too after that, for not owning up to fathering her and letting her live in comparative poverty.

Uther’s solution of course was to buy them off, an estate each and promises that he would always look after their interests. Arthur knew deep down that he’d only gotten the comfortable job he had now because his father had pulled some strings and Morgana knew her expensive horses were all bought cheaper for Uther’s contacts. After a while their family became comfortable again. Christmas dinners were had, family weddings became fun.

Arthur had never grown quiet comfortable with himself to be completely honest with anyone but Morgana apparently didn’t share his problem. Especially not when alcohol was involved. On the night of her 21st birthday, she’d let Uther throw her a surprise party. He’d ended up the one surprised when Morgana had not so subtly revealed she was gay by being found making out with her friend – or girlfriend as the case was – Vivian in the cloakroom.

The family had changed yet again. Arthur became fiercely loyal and protective of his sister while their father had grown even more distant with them both, refusing to accept Morgana’s sexuality properly and determined to keep his distance from the topic until she got over _the phase_. Morgana had never had serious girlfriend since, though Arthur didn’t know if that was because of Uther or simply how she preferred to live.

Arthur couldn’t judge her because to the outside world, he lived her lifestyle too. He’d never had a girlfriend for more than a month, he’d run for the hills at every sign a relationship was getting serious. But unlike Morgana, he’d been called everything under the sun for it: player, commitment-phobe, arsehole. Unlike Morgana, he had to face questions about marriage and children and passing on the family legacy. And unlike Morgana, he wasn’t attracted to women in the slightest. But unlike her, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it to anyone but himself.

Arthur sighed again as the train pulled into the station. It was going to be a long day.


	4. Chapter 4

Morgana’s colleagues had been less than helpful. All they would tell him was that she’d booked a few weeks off work and left Sophia in charge. They were too used to her flights of fancy to worry about where she’d gone and oddly unconcerned with her attempts to liquidate her estate. A look seemed to go between them that said exactly what Uther had implied. That it was somehow connected to her becoming involved with a woman of lower social standing. Nobody said it, not even his father, but they were all thinking it. Arthur couldn’t help but wonder himself, even though he had been nothing short of insanely proud of Morgana for finally finding someone she could be happy with, no matter their background.

After a while he gave up and found himself sat in the tack room, thumbing through his phone. He’d need a hotel room if he couldn’t find her tonight. There wasn’t much choice this far out in the country, not unless he was looking to throw a wedding or rough it in a Premier Inn. He missed the towering hotels of London, all you had to do was pick a street and you’d find a decent hotel there. All there was here were fields to pitch tents in.

He finally settled for one of those spa come holiday resorts, having used them elsewhere in the past when a case took him away from home. It would be out in the middle of nowhere, sitting on more land than anyone could have a use for but it wasn’t far away and if he found Morgana by the morning, he could maybe make a weekend break of it and have some peace and quiet before he headed back to London.

He rang for a cab, wishing forlornly that he’d brought his own car.


	5. Chapter 5

He’d picked up a few contact sheets before he’d left Morgana’s yard and took his time combing through them for names he recognized on the taxi ride to the hotel, just in case it was worth diverting his route to talk to any of them.

Most people picked up, some curious and some impatient sounding but none of them seemed to know anything about his sister’s whereabouts. A few didn’t pick up at all. But there were a few that yielded interesting results.

The first one of these was Tom, the farrier. The father of Morgana’s girlfriend Gwen. It had been an awkward talk to be sure. Gwen’s father sounded about as stressed as Uther had but there was a different feel to his anxiety. He was worried for his daughter’s safety, not her bank account. As far as Arthur could gather, nobody had heard from her either, for as long as they hadn’t heard from Morgana – a week.

Arthur tried his best to reassure Tom, convince him that every so often Morgana would just drop off the face of the Earth but he was adamant that his Guinevere did not. By the time Arthur had hung up the phone, he was decidedly more worried.

Nobody had seen Morgana, or Gwen, in at least seven days and yet, everything had been put in place to keep this disappearance from being noticed for a whole week. Had she not tried to sell her estate, Arthur wouldn’t even know she was gone. His professional brain was ticking. All people had were phone calls and emails. What if Morgana was being forced to make these phone calls? What if someone had tried to force her to sell her estate? What if she’d done it as a cry for help knowing that Uther would be informed immediately and Arthur would feel compelled to find out what the Hell she was doing? He was being silly, overreacting, he knew but he couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to this than Morgana being too independent for her own good.

The second call did nothing to soothe his fear. He’d been trying to get hold of Elena, one of Morgana’s oldest friends. She was rich enough that Arthur didn’t think anything strange when a maid answered the phone instead. When it became apparent that it wasn’t a maid, Arthur squinted down at the contact sheet, halfway through an apology for dialling a wrong number when the woman stopped him. He listened, frowning, as he was told that Elena had sold her the house, fully furnished, for almost half what it was worth around a month ago leaving no forwarding address. Arthur got the feeling she’d only told him because she thought he could answer her questions, like what to do with her mail and if to expect any debt collectors, but he had more questions than she did and neither of them had answers.

When Arthur hung up, he tapped his phone against his chin. Not only Morgana but Gwen and Elena too. He knew Elena had a boyfriend, Gwaine, but he had no clue how to get in touch with him. He wrote the name down on the paper with a question mark next to it. Perhaps he could get his number from one of the other girls.

The last call, just as he was pulling up to the hotel left him with an incredible sinking feeling. He’d left Mithian until last, knowing that she would take his concern seriously and might even meet him. She was the most sensible of all Morgana’s friends. She was from old money, like his own family, but she was different. She was the most grown up of them all and the only one of them that Arthur could spend time with and enjoy it, he’d even dated her for a few months. He sometimes idly thought that if he was inclined that way, she’d be the type of woman he’d marry. Sadly for them both, not even she could sway him although she had tried. She was the only person who had accepted his inability to have a real relationship with her with grace and without making him feel like he was a bastard.

It physically jolted him when she answered her mobile phone. Her voice wasn’t her own, not in any way he’d heard it before. She sounded far away, stoned even. He tried to get through to her but she kept saying something about staying with her forever. Had his ego been bigger, he might have thought she was referring to their failed relationship but it wasn’t her style. Besides, they were ancient history and... wasn’t she to married to Leon now? When she started laughing, a twisted laugh like there was a joke being made at his expense, he hung up with a shiver.

He tried to put it out of his mind as he checked into the hotel. He’d only booked a long weekend what with Friday being nearly over and Gaius giving him the weekend to get this sorted. He could always ring him later and offer to work late on Monday to make up for the time it would take him to get back up to London in the morning.

They’d given him a lovely room, not a whole suite like he was used to but amazing for such short notice. There was a desk by the window, looking out over the grounds and two chintzy armchairs at the other end of the room to act almost like a tiny living area. The back wall was dominated by a large bed, queen-sized at least with rather girly bedding. When he saw the large standalone bathtub in the en suite, the realisation that he had in fact been put in the bridal suite hit him. It all slotted into place, the view, the winding staircase to get up here, the bed that only needed rose petals sprinkled over it to make it complete. He half expected to find a _just married_ banner over the door when he looked back at it.

He rolled his eyes. It had been a long day with too many thoughts about what was expected of him and his sister. The last thing he needed was a reminder that he’d never have a proper life, like he was starting to want. He’d never have a wedding. He’d never have a wedding suite. He’d never have a wedding night. He’d never be able to work the courage to do more than stare longingly at another man, let alone marry one.

Arthur threw his things down on the bed and then followed them down. He’d have to make his peace with all that one day but tonight was not that night. Tonight he had to work out where the Hell Morgana had slunk off to. If she had at all.


	6. Chapter 6

Between his phone, the hotel Wi-Fi and a full blown internet cafe within its walls, Arthur had managed to print off as much of Morgana’s paperwork as he was able to get his hands on. Nothing suggested that she’d planned this little vacation of hers but then there wasn’t exactly anything to say she hadn’t either. The last date marked on her calendar - luckily accessible to anyone she gave the link to in order avoid schedule conflicts - was precisely seven nights previously but all it denoted was an “M”. That could mean any manner of things from her time of the month to she had a manicure booked, Arthur thought with a grimace. He put it aside and tried to find the last person she’d talked to. Without actually hacking her email or pulling up her phone bill, he couldn’t find anything more than hints.

Her last Facebook status only said how excited she was for that night (posted on the 16th at 21:14) and that she’d liked an article written by Cosmopolitan that Arthur didn’t dare follow the link for. He checked Gwen’s Facebook and found a similar message from the same time. A quick glance at Elena’s and Mithian’s also showed an excitement for something before complete radio silence. Arthur followed Elena’s Facebook relationship status to one Gwaine Green – who sadly he didn’t have added but a quick stalk of his friends list revealed enough names in common that before long Arthur was able to wrangle his phone number out of Percival, an acquaintance they shared. Alarmingly it also came with a note: _you haven’t heard from him recently, have you, mate?_

Arthur closed the app and tapped the number into his phone. It was gone midnight and Arthur wasn’t surprised when he got a voicemail message. He was surprised though when he couldn’t leave a message and was greeted with an unpleasant bleeping noise instead. Whoever Gwaine was, he was popular enough to have filled up his inbox. Or he’d not checked his phone in a long while.

Arthur set his phone down on the bedside table and rose to undress. He hadn’t bought nearly enough clothes for this journey, he’d thought he’d be going straight back home. He stripped down to his underwear and got between the sheets. He was worried and knackered and he had a strong suspicion that it was worrying so much that had knackered him.

He couldn’t turn his mind off though. Downside of the job. He just kept turning over all the _ifs_ and _buts_. He couldn’t fathom how so many people had fallen off the grid without anyone mentioning it. He couldn’t get the sound of Mithian’s slow, distant voice out of his head. He was sure if he fell asleep at all, he’d have nightmares about her laughing.


	7. Chapter 7

Having forgotten about dinner, Arthur woke hungry and with a sinking sensation. Two things that didn’t really mix well and left him feeling sick. In the dim light from his phone last night, none of it seemed real but now in the harsh light of reality, at least four people were missing and one of them was his sister.

He threw the bedcovers off himself and reached for his phone, trying Morgana’s number three times and then Gwen’s, Gwaine’s and Leon’s - Mithian’s husband – in quick succession. Not a single answer and the on again off again bleep of a phone ringing out was starting to grate on his nerves.

He didn’t want ring Mithian herself again, just in case she _did_ pick up. He rang Morgana’s landline and left her a message about how if she was fucking around with them, he’d disown her. There were already three messages like that already on her mobile voicemail and about twenty or so texts to that effect. He was starting to run out of reassuring thoughts.

After he showered and pulled on yesterday’s clothes again, he stopped for a quick breakfast in the dining room of the hotel. While he ate he went over Morgana’s contact sheet again, highlighting the names in three colours, those he had been able to get hold of, those who he hadn’t and those who might know something but hadn’t been forthcoming so far. Part of him wished he had a mole in Morgana’s group, just to make his life easier.

After eating without really tasting anything, he retired back up to his room to organise a rental car and do one last complete run through of phone calls. This time he added another question into the mix – had anyone else fallen off the face of the earth recently? Two names came up, neither on Morgana’s list. Freya and Will. Volunteer stable hands.

Arthur scribbled the names down and rang Sophia again to inform her that he’d been temporarily made executor of Morgana’s estate and he’d need a set of her house keys if she kept a spare and full access to her files at work. She sounded hesitant and Arthur wasn’t entirely sure she believed him but when he mentioned that Morgana had tried to sell the place from under them, she quickly changed her mind.


	8. Chapter 8

Sophia watched silently, nervously playing with the set of keys in her hand as Arthur emptied Morgana's desk into a cardboard box that had been conveniently discarded by the yard's office.

"Oh and I need something more comprehensive than this." Arthur took the contact sheet from his pocket. "Did she keep a phone book at all?"

"A little black leather notepad, it should be in the third drawer down." Sophia handed Arthur the tiny keys she was fiddling with. "You'll need these."

"Thanks," Arthur said and unlocked the drawer, taking its contents out and depositing them in the box. He grabbed the notepad and pocketed it. He also grabbed a set of keys that he recognised as Morgana's spare set. Even if he didn't find anything there, he knew he could find a spare set of clothes or two to change into. For the first time ever he was glad Morgana was crap at sending back clothes he'd left at hers. He gave the office a once over and satisfied he had all the information he could find on paper, he set about carrying it out. As he reached the door, he turned back to Sophia. He’d interviewed enough witnesses by now to know fear when he saw it but he knew pushing her right now would break her so he reached in his pocket for a card.

“If you think of anything else, you let me know, ok?” Arthur gave her a smile as she took the card. “Anything at all. No judgement.”

Sophia gave him a weak smile and nodded as he left.


	9. Chapter 9

After a quick sweep of Morgana’s house, Arthur had returned to his hotel room with two more boxes and three changes of clothes. It would last him until Monday, at least. Anything more than that and he might have to go back up to London and work from there or actually pack properly and come back again, if Gaius agreed to give him more time off work.

His choice was made for him when his phone started ringing. Praying it was Morgana, he made a mad dash across the room to answer it. For a second, when he heard a woman’s voice, he thought it was her. But it wasn’t.

“Is this the man who called yesterday?” the woman asked and Arthur tried to place her voice, certain it wasn’t anybody he knew.

“Probably, I rang a lot of people yesterday,” Arthur said wearily.

“You called about your friend, the young lady who sold me the house,” the woman filled in helpfully but it didn’t give Arthur any additional patience. 

He took a breath, telling himself it wasn’t this woman’s fault she wasn’t his sister. “How can I help you?”

“I’ve just got off the phone with the police,” she informed him and Arthur ran a hand over his mouth to suppress a sigh.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said instead, trying to sound sincere even though he was dying to add _but what does that have to do with me?_ He hadn’t mentioned Morgana to her or the fact people were missing, if she was in trouble with the law, that wasn’t on him.

“As was I,” the woman said before clarifying. “It’s your friend, they’ve found her body.”

Arthur closed his eyes for a second, not quite ready to believe he’d heard her correctly. “Her body?”

“Yes, it appears she drowned.”

“Drowned?” Arthur asked, still not comprehending what it meant.

“Yes, she was found on a river bank,” the woman said, starting to sound shaken. “Either she drowned herself or...” The rest went unsaid. “I’ve only been informed because her I.D still had her listed as living at this address. She didn’t have time to change it.”

“Thank you for letting me know,” Arthur said before hanging up. He didn’t quite know why he’d done it; he still had a million questions he wanted to ask her.

He stared at his phone. He should try Morgana again. But he didn’t want to. Because now, if she didn’t pick up, his first thought would be that she was at the bottom of a river somewhere.

Arthur set the phone down. That didn’t have to be the case. Elena might have just been depressed. She might not have been involved with the other disappearances. None of them had to be connected. It might just be a coincidence. Morgana could be in the Maldives drinking a Sea Breeze on a beach for all he knew for certain.

He dug a notepad out of his bag, determined to be logical about this. He flipped it open and grabbed a biro from the table, pulling the top off with his teeth. He drew three columns, like he would for any other missing persons case: those safe (for the moment at least), those missing and suspected missing and those confirmed dead.

The first list was the easiest. People he’d seen and talked to. People that were still updating their Facebook pages. The second list was harder because it started with Morgana’s name. The third list was thankfully short.

Safe   
_Sophia_  
Percival (-that friend of Gwaine’s)  
Tom (-Gwen’s father)  
Elyan (-Gwen’s brother) 

Missing   
_Morgana_  
Gwen  
Gwaine  
Mithian(?)  
Leon(-if Mithian is?)  
Freya  
Will 

Dead   
_Elena_

Arthur stared at her name for a second, the fact that she was dead finally sinking in. He’d never really known her. She was just that slightly odd instructor that the kids loved. She was just the girl who ran around like a kid herself when there was a gymkhana. She was the one in charge of the pony club. What would they tell the children?

Another horrible feeling struck him. The missing list was the longest. That wasn’t the way it should be, not in so select a group. Arthur added another half a dozen names to the safe list, of people he’d seen even though they weren’t in Morgana’s social circle. It made him feel better even if it didn’t actually help the case.

That’s what this was now. A case. It wasn’t just a chore, a quick trip to confirm Morgana’s whereabouts. Even if she pulled up outside his hotel in that instant, it would still be a case. A girl – Elena – was dead.

Arthur looked at the list of missing people again, selectively ignoring his sister’s name, and thought about how many more of them could be dead. Nobody had seen them in up to a month. Not all of them had things that would throw up red flags like Morgana did. He’d only found out about Elena because her selling her house was weird enough. What if the others didn’t have houses to sell? Gwen certainly didn’t. Gwaine had been living with Elena. He didn’t know about Will and Freya, they could have been anyone, rich or poor. And Leon and Mithian were a fiercely private couple, not likely to discuss their state of affairs with anybody other than an estate agent or a solicitor.

Arthur swallowed a thought. He’d complained that nobody seemed to notice or care that people were falling off the face of the Earth but what if they had noticed? What if that was how they ended up missing? Now there weren’t enough people left to keep track. Only Sophia and she wasn’t talking. Maybe out of fear that if she did, she’d go missing too. She might change her mind when she found out Elena had been killed.

He noticed the turn in his thoughts, the woman on the phone had said she jumped but now Arthur was sure of it. She’d been murdered. How many more on the list could have gone a long way? If it had taken a month for Elena to wash up, it could be another month before Morgana- Arthur cut off the voice in his head. Morgana wasn’t dead. She was only missing. But he needed to find out if Elena was the only one that was dead.

He reached over for his phone, checking the missed calls just in case. When he inevitably found none, he looked for the nearest hospital. In these types of circumstances, even if they really did think it was a suicide, there’d be a coroner ordered post-mortem. They’d released information to a woman whose only connection to the deceased was that she’d bought a house from her. They were desperate for any information they could get before they filed for an inquest. Arthur knew he wouldn’t even have to try that hard to talk them into giving him information in return for what he knew, or pretended he knew. He just needed to get them to talk to him. Luckily the law was on his side for once.

A woman answered the phone, sounding as stressed as everyone that entered through hospital doors on a daily basis. Once she’d reeled off the standard greeting, name of the hospital and offer of helping him, she waited to be told what department he wanted and put him through without so much as a goodbye but that suited him just fine.

The phone seemed to ring out forever but Arthur was determined he wouldn’t be the one to put the phone down. When a voice finally answered, it had to prompt him to reply at least twice because he’d started staring into space.

“Hello?” a man’s voice came drifting down the phone line.

“Yes, sorry, hello,” Arthur said, shaking himself and trying to regain some composure. “I’m calling to enquire about the post-mortem of Elena Gawant.”

“Are you her next of kin?” the man asked and Arthur had to hold in an irritated sigh. He was going to be one of those ones.

“No.”

“Are you her GP?” he asked, sounding even more severe.

“No.”

“Then I’m afraid-”

“Look,” Arthur said, cutting him off. “I might be able to help you. I know you’re in the dark about this otherwise how would I know things that by rights only her family or her doctor should know?”

“Such as?” the man asked.

“Such as she drowned but has been missing for weeks now. She showed erratic behaviour, such as selling her house unexpectedly, before death but showed no inclination towards suicide. She didn’t take out a life insurance policy nor did she draw up a last will and testament. There was no suicide note, nor stones in her pockets, nor any broken bones from jumping. I would even go so far as to say there wasn’t any water in her lungs.” Arthur bit his lip, he was guessing with the last one but that was more likely to sway them if it was right.

“I shouldn’t be giving out personal information without some kind of warrant – or identification at least.”

“I can come up to the hospital in person if that would be easier but then my presence would be recorded. As it is, if asked, all I’m asking you in this phone call is the time and place of Elena’s autopsy, information which you are legally obliged to share should a request be made.”

“And the rest of what you say?” the man asked, a note of resignation in his voice.

“Never happened. Presuming I can ask a few questions while I’m off the record.” Arthur grabbed his pen and pad and waited for the coroner’s officer to acquiesce.

“Very well. What can I help you with?” he asked, his manner returning to complete professionalism like he wasn’t breaking confidentiality rules.

“I said she didn’t drown, has a cause of death been determined yet?” Arthur asked, pressing the phone between his ear and his shoulder so that he could take notes.

“It has not.”

Arthur frowned. Surely they’d done the post mortem by now. “Elaborate, please.”

“There was no water, smoke or toxins in her lungs, no drugs or alcohol in her system. She’d eaten, drunk and engaged in seemingly consensual sexual activity twenty four hours before death. There were no wounds, no signs of struggle, no diseased or abnormal tissue, no viruses present, no blood clots. All vital organs should have been functioning perfectly well.”

“Except that they weren’t,” Arthur finished. It was a horrible thing, he knew, to look at a body and think that in all honestly, the person should still be alive. “If you had to guess though?”

There was a pause but he knew the answer would come. He would have an opinion. They always did.

“At a push, heart failure. But she has no prior conditions, no family history of it and there’s nothing to suggest why it happened so I can’t sign off on it.”

Arthur frowned again. Why would someone take a person who died of natural causes and dump the body? It was highly unlikely she’d been in a rowing boat when it happened.

“How long had she been dead before the body was discovered?” Arthur asked, moving on.

“Twelve to fourteen hours.”

Arthur was dimly aware of his mouth falling open and he struggled with silence for a moment. He’d been expecting _weeks_ not _hours_. He recovered himself as best he could; it would not due to show doubt now.

“You say there were no signs of a struggle, were there any marks on the body at all?” Arthur asked, trying to sound impersonal. That question covered pretty much anything from love bites to phone numbers scrawled on the back of her hand. The second was unlikely though as she had been dumped in water. It might have been why.

“A tattoo. Fresh. Within three weeks.”

“Of what?” Arthur asked. Elena had been deathly afraid of needles, there’d be no way she’d get a tattoo, not even for Gwaine. “And where?”

“The letter _M_ and it was on her chest, over her breast bone.”

Arthur swallowed and wrote it down. Another M. “Anything else?”

“Not for Miss Gawant.”

Arthur paused. He’d nearly breathed a sigh of relief but there was something leading about the way the officer had said it. Like there was more that he would like to say but that wasn’t covered by the morally dubious bargain they’d struck. Arthur had known about Elena, or he’d known enough for the man to feel it was alright to share her information but there was something else that would be crossing his line of ethics. Especially if the term _inquest_ was involved. There was a lot of red tape that scared people there.

“Have there been any more bodies brought in under similar circumstances?” Arthur asked as casually as he could even though they both knew the weight of the question. If answered, it could lose the man his job.

“I couldn’t possibly say,” the man said, starting to sound jumpy. That was an implicit yes then.

Arthur looked down at his notepad and was struck by an idea. “How about if I read off a list of names and you tell me if they _haven’t_ been brought in. There’s no law against that. If they have been brought in, under the same circumstances, with that same tattoo, you couldn’t possibly disclose that information. Understood?”

Arthur grimaced at himself. He hated being manipulative but it was part of his job and in times like these, it was a handy skill to have.

“Very well,” the man agreed again.

“Gwaine...” Arthur paused for a moment, wracking his brain before his Facebook profile flashed in his mind. “Gwaine Greene?”

“We have no records for that name.”

“Leon or Mithian Nemeth?”

“We have no records for either of those names,” the man said again and Arthur nodded. He was doing his best.

“I apologise for these two but I only have first names, a _Freya_ and a _Will_ or possibly _William_.”

There was a long pause and then “I cannot disclose that information.”

Arthur swallowed nervously. He didn’t even know who they were. He didn’t even know if they the same people he was looking for. Will was an awfully common name but Freya...

“Freya?” he asked again to narrow it down. He shouldn’t have asked about them both at once, he’d gotten too secure in his questions.

“We have no records for anyone by that name,” the officer said, confirming it was in fact a Will that they did have records for.

“Thank you. I will get back to you should I have more details concerning my previous enquiry.” Arthur considered hanging up there and then but he had to know. He had to be sure.

“Gwen – or Guinevere – Smith?”

“We have no records for that name,” the officer said, sounding more confident. Arthur guessed he’d gotten off his chest whatever it was he wanted to say but couldn’t do openly.

Arthur had breathed a small sigh of relief when Gwen’s name didn’t throw up a result. Wherever Gwen was, he was sure Morgana was with her. He forced himself to ask anyway.

“Morgana Pendragon?”

Even though there was only the slightest pause while the name was typed in, he could swear it went on forever before the blessed words were uttered, “we have no records for that name.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said, a great weight lifting from his heart. “Are these records national or local, may I ask?”

“They are national, sir,” the officer answered, sounding about as relieved as Arthur felt. They were done.

“Alright, thank you very much. I won’t ask your name or tell you mine but should you feel the need to get hold of me, I can be reached day or night on the number I am calling from.”

“I shall bear that in mind,” the man answered. “Thank you for calling.”

The line went dead. He’d gotten what he needed to know. Or at least, he could guess at what he needed to know. Elena was connected to this somehow. As was this Will. And they were both connected with this “M” idea that he knew nothing about. 

He knew something had killed them both and whatever it was had a long list of other people to work through. If Elena was only killed last night, it was obvious she had been kept for a while before she died. Wherever Morgana was, he was fairly hopeful that he could find her and save her. He was also sure he wasn’t leaving by Monday.

Arthur scrolled though his contacts and hit call on Gaius’ name. Thankfully he picked up after a few rings, a rarity in their busy office.

“Gaius, it’s me,” Arthur said quickly to avoid the standard greeting being reeled off. He didn’t have time for that.

“Arthur!” Gaius said, sounding genuinely pleased to hear from him. Another rarity in their profession but Gaius was, hands down, the best boss Arthur had ever worked for. “Have you heard from your sister?”

“No, not exactly. That’s why I called.” Arthur took a deep breath. This would be the first time he said all his fears out loud. “I really hate to do this to you but I’m going to need more time. I think she really is missing. I’m sure of it, even.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” Gaius said and Arthur smiled weakly even if he couldn’t be seen. “You take the time you need.”

“Thank you.” Arthur paused. If he phrased this just right, he might even be able to get help. “Look, I think there might be a story in this. If you’ll let me work away from the office, I could still make my deadline? I’d need access to the network from here and an assistant, if you can spare one – George maybe?”

“Why do you think there’d be a story in it?” Gaius asked and Arthur knew it wasn’t because he was worried about his headlines; it was because he was worried about Morgana.

“It isn’t just my sister that is missing, quite a few people are and...” Arthur broke off. He didn’t want to play the ambulance chaser but it was the only card he had left. “There have been two deaths as well. Under mysterious circumstances.”

“Mysterious circumstances?” Gaius repeated back at him.

“Elena, perfectly happy if a bit dotty, sold the house she grew up in for the market equivalent of some magic beans and then was found dead. No cause of death, she just dropped dead. It was staged a suicide so someone went to the trouble of covering their tracks – but why do that if she died of natural causes?”

“Doesn’t sound like your normal murder investigation to me,” Gaius commented and Arthur knew he had free rein. Gaius loved the unusual. Arthur just had to hope it ended well enough that he could bear to cover it.

“I’ll come up tomorrow and get some things, check in with you then?” Arthur said to confirm his thoughts.

“No, no, there’s no sense leaving now,” Gaius muttered. “What do you need?”

“Everything. Clothes, my car, my laptop – I have to do everything from my phone right now. Oh and my phone charger. Everything I need to function basically,” Arthur admitted then had a thought. “Why? You’re not coming down yourself, are you?”

“No but you said you could use an assistant,” Gaius reminded him and Arthur shrugged to himself. It would save him the bother even if he wasn’t that keen on the idea of George poking through his things.

“Alright then. I have a spare set of keys in my desk. You should have the keys to the desk,” Arthur said, starting to make a contingency plan. “When can he get here?”

“I’ll have to call him first, see that he’s not working on anything himself.”

Arthur nodded to himself and then paused. “What would he be working on? He’s an errand boy.”

“Not George, Arthur, you need proper help,” Gaius said sternly and Arthur could guess what was coming. “You know as well as I that paranormal investigations are right up Merlin’s street. He could be invaluable.”

“No!” Arthur snapped and then took a calming breath. “Anyone else. I can’t work with him.”

“Arthur, don’t be childish. You want to find your sister, don’t you?” Gaius asked and Arthur blushed, put in his place.

“Fine,” Arthur said through clenched teeth. “But if I get home and he’s messed with my stuff just to annoy me, I’ll feed him to whatever this thing turns out to be. And he better be careful with my car!”

“He doesn’t have a problem with you, Arthur, it’s all in your head,” Gaius sighed. “I’ll get him to call you.”

“Hmm.” Arthur hung up the phone and sulked for a moment. He was being childish, he knew but it wasn’t all in his head.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a bit late, I'm stuck in NaNo hell right now.

Arthur stood by the window, gritting his teeth. It had been a good few hours since Gaius had called him back to confirm Merlin was willing and able to help him. He’d reluctantly given Gaius a list of what he needed and where it would be found, and made his peace with the fact that Merlin, of all people, would be rooting through his apartment and driving his car.

That’s what he was waiting for, _his_ car to pull up. 

He hated it. The idea of having to share all this with Merlin, of all people. There was nothing to say this was paranormal – a little strange perhaps – but it didn’t really call for a paranormal investigator. Or _idiot_ as Arthur had taken to calling them. If it had been any other case, anybody else missing, he would have held up his hands and said “fine, you do it then” but it was Morgana’s neck on the line. He couldn’t back out and he couldn’t let his own feelings come into it.

But he still let out an annoyed huff of air as he saw his red Porsche 911 Carrera S pull rather dramatically to a stop in the driveway of the hotel. He took a steadying breath as Merlin’s impossibly long frame unfolded itself from his driver’s seat like one of those illusionary magic tricks. He watched to make sure the dolt actually locked his car before he turned away from the window and started the long walk down to reception to meet him.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner to reception, he almost wished he’d stayed in his room and texted Merlin instead. It was one of those niggly little things about Merlin, just his presence riled something inside Arthur; he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. Well, he could but he didn’t want to.

At that exact moment, it was the way Merlin was leaning over the counter, checking the computer screen that the receptionist was pointing at.

 _He better bloody not be staying here,_ Arthur thought to himself. His suspicions were confirmed when the receptionist handed him a room key with a smile and a wave.

“There you are, Pratdragon,” Merlin said, spotting him. “Give us a hand.”

Arthur nodded, repressing every urge to deck him. It was going to be a long case. He followed Merlin out to the car; it was half his stuff after all. He tried not to start gritting his teeth again when Merlin didn’t hand over his keys but instead flipped the bonnet for him, opening it to display a small suitcase and a few bags. He then went to the passenger seat and retrieved his own belongings, a similar array of bags.

“How long are you booked for? I gave myself a week,” Merlin asked conversationally as he dragged his suitcase up to where Arthur was piling all his things out onto the gravel driveway. 

Arthur closed his eyes and tried not to kneejerk shout _a week?!_ at him. He wasn’t sure he couldn’t handle a week. “Until Monday. I suppose I’ll have to extend that.”

“Yep. And find somewhere to park; I’m sure you can’t leave that sat there. It’s a God awful eyesore.” Merlin gave him one of his smiles, the ones that really annoyed Arthur and headed towards the doors leaving Arthur to follow him again.

In the lobby Merlin checked the number on his key and then leaned over to whisper conspiratorially at Arthur. “I’ve got 214, what did you get?” 

Arthur swallowed down a sigh. “216.”

“Aww, that’s nice. Shame they couldn’t give us a door in between, make this a whole lot easier.”

Arthur nodded along as they started up the stairs, his mind wandering as he inadvertently followed Merlin’s arse. He was sure he couldn’t take a week of him. It wasn’t just the obvious ways he was annoying in his snarky but bright manner and it wasn’t the names either, though _Pratdragon_ was a new one. No, there was so much more than that. Merlin just annoyed him on a cellular level. Just existing in the same space as him. Even the mere mention of him. And yet, he couldn’t even explain it rationally without everything coming undone. So fine, let everyone think he was a childish brat who couldn’t share his toys. It was a right side better than the truth.

“Do you want to walk a bit faster?” Arthur asked, his view testing his restraint. “This is heavy.”

“Well, if you didn’t give me a list as long as my arm of all the crap you needed, it wouldn’t be so heavy,” Merlin shot back but to his merit, he did make an effort to climb the stairs faster. “Here we go, two.”

Merlin started dragging his suitcase down a corridor before Arthur grabbed his arm, he’d seen Merlin’s room on the way to his. It was lodged just underneath the spiral staircase up to his own one. Which meant, contrary to Merlin’s guess, he would be right below him rather than right next to him. 

“This way, idiot.” Arthur pulled him around until he was facing the right way and gave him a gentle push.

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Merlin said, setting off towards the spiral staircase. When he got to his door he looked around at Arthur, still hovering. “Where are you then? I don’t see 216.”

“I’m up there.” Arthur nodded to the stairs.

“Bugger me, who are you, Rapunzel?” Merlin shook his head. “Could you not just get a normal room like the rest of us common folk?”

“It was all they had at the time,” Arthur said though he could feel himself blushing. It wasn’t his fault he came from money. He couldn’t help being born to his family, nobody could.

“Sure, it was.” Merlin turned back to his door and Arthur prompted him with a small cough.

“I’m not inviting you in, you’ll have to buy me a drink first,” Merlin said but turned back anyway.

“My car keys,” Arthur said, his tone clipped, his annoyance starting to strain the boundaries of politeness. 

“Oh yeah.” Merlin bit his lip, his hands full. “Let me put all this down, they’re in my pocket. Unless you’d do a guy a favour and get them yourself?” Merlin waited for a second while Arthur stared at him. “No, guess not then.”

He shrugged, brushing it off way too easily. Another annoying trait. Everything seemed to be water off a duck’s back to Merlin. Even the most obviously blatant flirting. Arthur would put money on the fact he wasn’t kept up at night when he said things that could be misconstrued, like what Merlin had just said.

Arthur stood waiting until Merlin came back to the door and chucked his keys at him, making Arthur move from his stoic stance to catch them. Merlin gave him another infuriatingly bright smile before moving to close his door.

“Come up when you’re settled,” Arthur said quickly before Merlin disappeared. He tried to ignore how it sounded. “You need to catch up on what’s going on.”

Arthur waited until Merlin had nodded his agreement and closed his door before he attempted to drag his bags up the spiral staircase. The last thing he needed was for Merlin to offer to help him. Not that he expected he would, he’d probably just stand there and watch him struggle.

Once inside his room, he dumped the suitcase on his bed and flipped it open. On top of his clothes was his laptop with a post-it note on it. _Clear your browser history..._ Arthur’s stomach dropped and he turned the post-it over. _Just kidding!_ Yet another completely well founded reason why he hated Merlin. 

He screwed up the post-it and threw it in the bin, determined not to even give it the rise Merlin was aiming for. He sorted through his clothes, trying not to think about Merlin going through his wardrobe and his chest of drawers. He hung his clothes up. More than enough for a week, especially if he found somewhere he could get them washed. He stuck about a dozen pairs of boxers in one drawer and a dozen pairs of socks in another and _really_ tried not to think about Merlin handling his delicates. He was surprised to find that Merlin had even gone to the trouble of packing him shower gel, shampoo and his razor. Things Arthur hadn’t even thought about.

When there was a cheerful knock at his door, he felt less inherently annoyed by the prospect of inviting Merlin in as he had a moment before. He opened the door, gesturing Merlin inside with his hand. He still wasn’t quite set up.

Merlin whistled as he looked around. “And who is the lucky lady then?”

“Shut up,” Arthur said reflexively. “It was the only room they had.”

“Did I hit a nerve?” Merlin held up his hands in surrender. “Accept my heartfelt apologies.”

“Accepted. Let’s get on with it.” Arthur tipped one of the boxes of Morgana’s things over his bed and sat down beside the pile, holding a breath as Merlin did the same. “I’ve been over all this a hundred times but a fresh set of eyes never hurt. We’re looking for anything weird or anything with an M.”

“Her name’s Morgana, right?” Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard to find then,” Merlin said but picked up a piece of paper.

“Alright,” Arthur started, needing the distraction as he laid out the case. “One confirmed death, one suspected death and six missing. Including my sister.”

“Are you sure you should be doing this then?” Merlin looked up at him from under his lashes, disturbingly gorgeous and oddly... concerned? What the Hell was that?

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to react to the sudden change in tone. “I have to. She’s booked holiday time. I can’t even open a missing persons case. This is all I can do.”

Merlin shrugged. “Alright then. How long?”

“A week for Morgana, up to a month at least for the others, maybe longer.”

“That’s a long time to be missing for,” Merlin said with a grimace. Arthur knew what he was thinking. He’d thought the same thing. The longer they were missing, the more likely it was they were dead.

“Usually but Elena, the one found dead, she’d been kept until 12 hours before she was found. That’s weeks.”

“I hope this isn’t going to go all Silence of the Lambs on us,” Merlin muttered, turning over the piece of paper and finding the other side blank.

“Why? Why would you say that?” Arthur said, staring at him again.

“Inappropriate sense of humour, apparently.” He shrugged again and picked up another pile of papers. “Go on.”

“Most of these people came from the same social circle. My sister, my sister’s girlfriend and my sister’s friends.” Arthur handed him Morgana’s contact sheet. “Most of them can be traced back in some way to her place of work.”

“And nobody noticed?” Merlin asked.

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, revisiting his theory from earlier in the day. “If they did, they might have gone missing too.”

“Ah, yes, good point.” Merlin bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. “What have you got against Sophia?”

“What? Nothing.” Arthur leaned over to see what he was looking at. It was his list of names, the safe, missing and dead list.

“Something. You’ve gone over her name about fifteen times.” Merlin pointed at her name. He wasn’t lying. “That means you’re thinking about her too hard so either you’ve got something against her or you’re halfway to writing _I heart Sophia_ and I’d like to think you’d have grown out of things like that if I’m to be working with you.”

Arthur sighed, it looked like he was going to have to come clean. “She’s jumpy. She’s Morgana’s best friend, she wouldn’t sell her down the river – I don’t think. But she knows something.”

“Have you tried asking her?” Merlin asked him, setting down the paper.

“Of course, she stonewalled me the first time but she’s crumbling.” Arthur ran a hand over his face. So much had happened in the last two days, he was starting to wear thin himself.

“Do you have a picture?” Merlin asked, holding out a hand for Arthur’s phone.

“I think so, from Morgana’s birthday a few months back.” Arthur scrolled though his photo reel until he found one of Sophia. “What are you thinking?”

“Not sure yet, we’ll see.” Merlin curled his fingers into a beckoning motion until Arthur dropped the phone on his outstretched palm. He stared at the photo for a few seconds then nodded. “Has she ever tried it on with you?”

Arthur saved his jaw from dropping just in time and settled for an indignant “what?” instead.

“Has she made a pass at you ever? Blamed it on being drunk perhaps?” Merlin looked up from the photo, looking Arthur over in the same way he had Sophia. “Of course she did.”

“Whatever you’re trying to say, just say it,” Arthur said, knowing full well what the implication was. Was Sophia a bit easy? Did she need attention to function? It was harsh but if pushed, Arthur would have made the same assessment. 

“Show me Morgana,” Merlin said and handed the phone back for Arthur to flick through.

Arthur ignored the burning in his chest as he forced himself to look at Morgana smiling, a drink in her hand. He passed the phone over without a word. 

Merlin barely glanced at it before he nodded. “She would have sold her down the river. If the right buttons were pushed.”

“Why do you say that?” Arthur asked even though part of him could believe it.

“Morgana has everything naturally that she wants. Morgana is raven dark while she’s mousy brown, Morgana has startling green eyes while hers are a beautiful but much more common blue, she’s got a round face, but with makeup accentuating her cheekbones where she wants Morgana’s sharper features. And then there’s the makeup. Morgana barely needs any. Sophia’s is dramatic, red lipstick and rouge; she’s trying to claw back some of the spotlight. She would have coveted everything Morgana had, even if she really was the best friend. It’s human nature – especially in beautiful women.”

“How do you know that?” Arthur asked, slightly uncomfortable again. Coveting was one of his sore spots.

“What’s a girl’s best friend?” Merlin asked absently, flicking through the rest of the album.

“Diamonds?” Arthur asked, lost.

Merlin looked up at him from under his lashes again, like he’d said something stupid. “Never mind.”

There was a silence while Merlin finished going over the information Arthur had gathered before he set aside the pile.

“Well, it’s obvious,” Merlin’s forehead crinkled for a second. “Everyone is excited for something, right? The last messages - the ones we can get to – all say how excited they are for something happening at night. That narrows it down to events, parties, illicit orgies... that last one was a joke, by the way. You can smile, it is allowed.”

“You’re talking about my sister,” Arthur reminded him.

“Alright, so not the orgy then.” Merlin sighed and laid out several pieces of paper. “But you get my point. If it is happening every week – look.” He pointed out the dates. “Then it’s probably a party – or a club. An elite club. Like the Dolce and Gabbana version of the Freemasons.”

“The M,” Arthur said to himself.

“Yeah, run that by me, there’s an M?” Merlin asked, bringing them back to what Arthur had first said.

“Yes, it was the last entry in Morgana’s calendar. Just an M. I dismissed it, it could have been anything but then it turned up again. As a tattoo on Elena’s chest. And another one, maybe.”

“And she didn’t just... get a tattoo?” Merlin asked.

“She’d sooner walk on hot coals. She hated needles,” Arthur said. Had it been anyone else, maybe but not Elena. She couldn’t even have blood drawn without fainting dead.

“Alright, an M it is. And a club or party.” Merlin grinned. “You know what that means?”

Arthur thought for a second but drew a blank. “Enlighten me?”

“We know what to look for!” Merlin smiled even brighter but Arthur still didn’t get it.

“And what are we looking for?”

“An invitation.” Merlin raised his eyebrows and waited for the penny to drop.

If Morgana had disappeared the night of whatever party the M stood for, she might have left the invite in plain sight and the invite might tell them where she went.

“Merlin, savour this moment because I may never say it again but you are a fucking genius.”

“I try.” Merlin nodded proudly and hopped off the bed. “What are we waiting for then?”

In that second, Arthur was too elated to even contest the idea that Merlin assumed he was coming with him to rifle through his sister’s possessions.


	11. Chapter 11

Arthur pulled the car onto Morgana’s driveway and came to an even more dramatic stop than Merlin had only a few hours ago. 

“This is your theory, what am I supposed to be looking for?” Arthur asked as he unbuckled himself and swung the car door open.

“If it’s something elite and secret... something elite and secret looking?” Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know, this is more your type of people than mine.”

“What does that mean?” Arthur asked, glancing back at him as he approached Morgana’s door.

“Well, you’re poshballs, aren’t you?” Merlin pointed out. “You’re the silver spoon brigade while I’m a bit of rough.”

Arthur looked Merlin over. Long and skinny but perfectly fitted into skinny jeans and a fitted check shirt, it was hard to believe that he was even the tiniest bit of rough imaginable.

“Just get in,” Arthur said, gesturing through the door, trying desperately to clear his head.

“Yes, sir,” Merlin said, bowing with a flourish of his hand before doing as he was told.

Arthur followed him through, pointing out rooms as they walked down Morgana’s hallway. Her house was simple enough; two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and a couple of bathrooms spread over one level. All very open plan, modern and minimalist but it would still be like looking for a needle in a haystack. 

“You take the living room, I’ll take her bedroom. She might have hidden it,” Arthur instructed and turned towards the bedroom. Even knowing that Morgana was no more Merlin’s type than he was hers, he didn’t want anyone poking about in his sister’s underwear drawer.

“The thought had occurred,” Arthur heard him mutter before he started looking.

He tried not to let his mind wander, he really did but the task was boring and his thoughts were churning like an ocean in a storm. Why did it have to be Merlin?

_Christmas 2010_

“Go and talk to him if you like him,” Arthur urged Sefa, the shy girl three offices down who he’d been in charge of training up.

“No, I can’t do that, he’ll think I’m weird,” Sefa reasoned and Arthur rolled his eyes. “I don’t know him, it’ll be weird. You could introduce us.”

“I don’t know him! I’ve barely said five words to the bloke since he started,” Arthur shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. It wasn’t her fault Arthur was so socially stunted when it came to talking to attractive men. Or men he was attracted to. Or both.

“That’s five words more than me,” Sefa said, giving him a little nudge.

“It’s a figure of speech.” He frowned but got up, dragging Sefa with him.

Drinks were flowing and cheesy Christmas music was playing. There might be the slightest chance that he could get out of the party early if he pushed Sefa onto Merlin. He looked around awkwardly. It was just an introduction. Nobody could infer anything from an introduction. He tapped Merlin on the shoulder and tried not to notice how brightly he smiled.

“Merlin, right?” Arthur asked like he didn’t already know. Like the name hadn’t been going around his head for ages already.

“Yeah,” Merlin nodded, his smile getting even wider. “And you’re Arthur Pendragon. I’ve heard a lot about you. None of it good but all of it interesting.”

“Oh?” Arthur asked, curiosity taking over. “I’m sure none of it is true.”

“Let’s hope not,” Merlin said with a laugh and Arthur smiled nervously, completely lost. 

He was saved by a sharp elbow to the ribs. “Oh. Yes. Right. This is Sefa.”

Merlin held his gaze for a second longer, a strange glint in it, before he looked across to Sefa. “Lovely to meet you. Are you new?”

“Yes, actually.” Sefa smiled and giggled and Arthur felt like detaching her there and then. “Arthur has been looking after me.”

“Lucky you,” Merlin said, eyeing Arthur again, making him smile nervously again, unsure if there was a joke being played at his expense.

“He’s been great,” Sefa said, obviously not sure if Merlin was being sincere or not either. Arthur took the moment to excuse himself, not sure he wanted to stick around and find out.

An hour passed and Sefa returned to him looking more than a little downtrodden.

“No luck?” Arthur asked her, nodding in Merlin’s direction. He was still smiling brightly, this time at somebody else. No fucking luck.

“No,” Sefa said sadly before picking up the bottle of wine that had been left on the table. She poured herself a glass and drank deeply. “Turns out I’m not his type.”

“He must be blind then,” Arthur said, well used to being on the listening end of comforting talks with Morgana’s friends.

“Not quite.” Sefa shrugged. “I’m just _really_ not his type.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, confused. “What’s his type then?”

Sefa looked up, looked him dead in the eye and with all seriousness said, “you.”

_Present Day_

Arthur sighed. Of all the people in the office, it had to be him. He closed Morgana’s drawers, having searched through them enough that even distracted, he would have noticed an invitation of some sort.

The thought occurred to Arthur that it might not be a real invitation. It could be one of those silly Facebook event invitations. She could have been texted the information. Or emailed it.

Arthur was about to shout to Merlin that they really were looking for a needle in a haystack when Merlin shouted to him instead.

“Got it!”

Arthur rounded the corner and jogged to where Merlin’s voice had come from. He found him in the kitchen holding a posh looking place card. “What does it say?”

“It’s got a string of numbers – co-ordinates I’m guessing – a date – the day she went missing, obviously – and the word _come_.” Merlin turned the card over so Arthur could see the shining silver M.

“That’s it. Let’s go.” Arthur started towards the door but Merlin shouted after him, halting him in his tracks.

“We can’t just go. Who knows what this is? We have to do research first, you know that.” Merlin looked down at the card again. “It’s all very cloak and dagger, don’t you think?”

“Merlin, people are missing – my sister is missing. I think we passed _cloak and dagger_ a few miles back.”

Merlin frowned. “Yes but they didn’t know that, Morgana and her girlfriend. If they were being poached, why not come out and lure them in easily? Why make them work for it?”

“I don’t know, maybe they get off on it. Can we go now?” Arthur shifted his feet. Now he had a place, a direction to go it, he was itching to go.

“No! Listen to me, will you?” Merlin pinned him with a glare. “If this is secret society, or anything like that, it’s not going to be as easy as all that, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you had a secret headquarters where you hid people away, would you tell anyone where it is?” Merlin waved the card about. “Anyone could find it. We did.”

“You think the co-ordinates are wrong?” Arthur asked, wanting to kick something.

“I’d put money on it.” Merlin shrugged. “But now we know what we’re looking for.”

“And what’s that?” Arthur asked, the image of a needle in a haystack returning to haunt him.

“Let me find out for sure first,” Merlin dismissed him with a shake of his head. “What does your sister do? Does she work with this Sophia?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said hesitantly, getting whiplash from the sharp change of subject. “They run a riding school together.”

“Hmm. I don’t ride.” Merlin paused for a second and Arthur pulled a face wondering what the hell Merlin’s riding talents, or lack of, had to do with anything. “Is it a livery too or just a school?”

Arthur thought about it for a second and then nodded. “It’s a livery too.”

“Grand,” Merlin said, smiling brightly and taking out his phone. “Stick the number in there, the public one mind.”

Arthur did as he was told, getting an idea about what Merlin had planned as he handed the phone back and Merlin hit dial.

“Hi there,” Merlin said, affecting his best business tone. “I’m looking to move to the area and was hoping to board my horse nearby, a friend of a friend tells me you offer a great service.”

Merlin looked at him, eyebrows raised as if to ask if he’d said the right thing. Arthur nodded helplessly. He didn’t have a clue.

He waited for a few moments while Merlin nodded along and made sounds of agreement. Then he surprised him by saying, “I’m free right now. Perhaps I could come up and take a tour?”

There were another few nods and yeses and then, “great, so I’ll ask for Sophia?”

Arthur nodded, mostly to himself. Merlin was going fishing and using himself as bait. It was a good plan. When Merlin hung up, Arthur headed for the door.

“You’re not coming,” Merlin informed him “I need to have her at ease. She knows you know something is up. She might just let something slip if I’m alone, a perfect stranger.”

“You don’t know where you’re going,” Arthur pointed out, not quite sure why he cared. Sending Merlin in alone didn’t quite sit right with him and he hated it. “At least let me drive you.”

“I have a name and a taxi firm up already. I’ll be fine.” Merlin showed him his phone to prove his point.

“And what am I going to do?” Arthur asked with an annoyed huff.

“You can check the address, calmly and without stopping the car. You have a Sat Nav right?” Merlin asked, knowing full well he did. “Stick in the numbers, have a poke about. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like I would,” Arthur said, smiling even though his breath had caught at the slightest sign of concern from Merlin. That wasn’t how they worked. 

“You would. You’re a prat.” Merlin smiled brightly and put the phone to his ear, blocking any comeback Arthur would have made but setting them right again.

Arthur got into his car and only looked in the rear view mirror when absolutely necessary for safety reasons. Or that’s what he told himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Sophia seemed nice enough. A little pushy and a little dramatic but Merlin decided she wasn’t dangerous. He listened, pretending to know what she was on about, as she gave him the tour of the stables.

“I can drive you up to the fields if you like,” she offered when the tour was nearly at an end. She was obviously desperate for the business.

“No, that’s quite alright, I think I’ve seen enough,” Merlin said, feinting disinterest. It worked like a charm.

“Have you been down here long?” she asked and Merlin knew that was code for _are you checking out the competition?_

“No, not at all. I’m here with a friend, visiting his family. It’s a lovely place though; I’m considering buying a second home here.” Merlin smiled, sickly sweet. He’d have to buy the first home first, he thought to himself but he needed to make a show that he was _one of them_. 

“It is beautiful. We have an arrangement with local farmers, hundreds of acres to hack on.” Sophia smiled wistfully and for a moment, Merlin wished he really did own a horse. He’d not been on real farm land since he’d moved into the city. He oddly missed it.

“Sounds great,” Merlin said dragging himself back to his plan. “Actually, since my friend and I are new here, are there any other local treasures we should know about?”

“Not really.” Sophia pulled a face. She was obviously bored with her surroundings, Merlin decided. “There’s a good pub, down the road a bit. The town isn’t too far off. Everything else is just country club stuff, extremely tedious.”

“Nothing a bit more...” Merlin leaned in for a stage whisper, thinking maybe he could flirt his way to some answers. “Exciting?”

Sophia looked at him for a moment and bit her lip nervously. Merlin waited with bated breath but she shook her head, deciding against whatever she would have said. Merlin was about to push her some more, ask her out perhaps but his phone rang and saved him the bother. “Excuse me.”

“Darling?” Merlin said into the phone and listened as Arthur choked on something. Air perhaps.

“Yeah, alright...” Arthur said, brushing it off. “You were right. Nothing here but empty warehouses. Should I come and get you? I can park down the road so they won’t see me.”

“Yes,” Merlin said, answering the question before laying on the pretence. “It’s lovely here, I really wish you could see it, you’d adore it.”

“What? I have seen it. I’ve been there loads of times.” 

“I was just asking the _beautiful_ Sophia here if she knew of anything that might keep us entertained while we’re here, I know how _bored_ you can get when you’re not kept _entertained_.” Merlin enunciated the words for Sophia’s benefit, trying to put out a message that nobody could miss.

“What?” Arthur asked, sounding bewildered.

“She couldn’t think of _anything_ , such a shame.” Merlin glanced at Sophia who was making a show of picking up a fallen broom. He knew she was listening.

“I’m sure we won’t have time-”

“Maybe the internet will turn up some _secret_ she’s not in on. Have fun looking, love, I’ll be back soon.”

“What the hell is-”

Merlin smiled to himself, he could almost see Arthur’s confused look. He made a mental note to take the piss out of him later and turned to Sophia, face full of mock embarrassment. He started walking towards the doors and Sophia followed him.

“Sorry, that was the boyfriend. He says jump, I look for the hoop,” Merlin explained and leant in for another stage whisper, like they were old friends. “It’s his money, you see.”

“Ah yes, I completely understand.” Sophia gave him a knowing look and tapped her nose. “Where are you two staying?”

“The big mansion looking building, a little north of here I think?” Merlin kicked himself for not sounding surer and for letting himself be driven from pillar to post without making notes of where he was going. He stopped outside the doors. If she was going to say anything, it would be now.

“Why don’t I take down your number and I’ll text you if I hear of anything _exciting_.” Sophia held out her phone and Merlin took it with a smile, tapping in his number and saving it so that even if it was a bluff, she had it saved.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Merlin said as he handed her the phone back.

“Likewise,” Sophia said with a professional smile and an outstretched hand which Merlin took and kissed, just for the sake of it. “I hope you consider our yard if you do move down here.”

“I shall,” Merlin said, stepping away and heading towards the little lane that would deliver him to the main road. He turned after a few steps just to check she was still watching him. She was, of course. “See you again some time.”


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur pulled up a few meters away from where Merlin was stood waiting. He wanted to make him walk for being such an annoying twat. It didn’t work though; he still smiled like a kid at Christmas when he climbed into the car.

“What the actual fuck was that about, _darling_?” Arthur asked, glancing at him, refusing to drive away until he got a bloody good answer.

“Oh that, I was just testing a theory,” Merlin said with a shrug.

“What theory? Which pet names I’ll respond to?”

“I thought you responded quite nicely to _Pratdragon_ but I can switch to _darling_ if you prefer. So long as I get a scowl out of you, I’m happy to call you anything.”

Arthur glared at him and then pulled away; he obviously wouldn’t get the answer he wanted. Eventually Merlin sighed and broke.

“The _come_ on the invite, it bugged me,” he started. “My mind might always be in the gutter but that is oddly sexual for an innocent invitation, isn’t it?”

“I suppose, I hadn’t really thought about it,” Arthur admitted. Somewhere between worrying about Morgana and now worrying about Merlin too, he hadn’t had much time to ponder the trivial.

“So, what kind of party wants to put out a sexy vibe?” Merlin looked around the car, as if it was demonstrating. “Your lot are always at it. You hear it all the time. Country clubs and golf weekends.”

“You’ve lost me,” Arthur said, glancing over at him again.

“Well, it’s all sex, isn’t it?” Merlin inspected his nails as if he’d just said it was raining. “Swinging and cuckolding and orgies, your class is famous for them. All very hush hush, of course but the rumours are there.”

“What?” Arthur asked, incredulous and then a horrible thought struck him. “Oh God, what did you tell Sophia?”

“Nothing much. She’ll draw her own conclusions, I’m sure,” Merlin looked up, caught Arthur’s expression and rolled his eyes. “Look, I didn’t mention you by name, not without asking you first. But all these couples seem to be young, rich, powerful and popular. And they were couples. I think that’s the only way you get invited. She perked right up when I said the right words.”

“Are you saying we have to pose as a couple?” Arthur asked, knowing that he checked all the other boxes, at least in Morgana’s crowd.

“You don’t have to but I can’t very well do it alone.” Merlin leaned closer but for once, Arthur didn’t find it annoying. He was too busy trying to think of an out. “You have money, these are your people. We can get to the bottom of this a lot quicker if we play along.”

“I don’t know if I can do it,” Arthur admitted and regretted it when Merlin gave him a patronising smile.

“Don’t worry, it’s not catching.”

_Christmas 2010_

Somewhere deep down, Arthur knew it wasn’t a good idea. There wasn’t enough wine in the world that would quell that fear. But it did turn down the voice telling him what a bad idea it was, at least for a while.

He waited until Merlin was alone, something that took longer than he would have thought it would. He’d been waiting so long that the words just stumbled out, “d’you want a drink?”

“Yeah, alright,” Merlin had said easily, like it was no effort at all. 

He’d led him to the open bar and ordered the drinks himself, defeating the point but Arthur didn’t object when a drink was pushed in his hand. He looked Arthur up and down, as if seeing past all the finery into the man underneath the suit. Merlin wasn’t wearing a suit, of course, he never did. Arthur had never seen him out of jeans and a t-shirt. No matter how hard he wished he could.

“Somewhere more quiet, perhaps,” Merlin suggested and Arthur followed him, again. He didn’t know where Merlin was leading him but he wanted to follow so badly. To give into what he wanted. Just once.

_Present Day_

Arthur drove. Staring at the road helped a little but he couldn't shake the feeling that something, some greater force in the universe, was having a great laugh at his expense. He'd asked for time to think and Merlin, to his credit was sitting quietly, staring out the window. Arthur wasn't sure thinking was helping him. It was rather having the opposite effect.

Merlin had a point. At least six of the missing people were involved in some form of relationship and of those six, at least one from each couple was affluent and well talked about. Morgana, Elena, Mithian. And if going to one of these parties was the easiest way to find out where Morgana was...

Would it be so bad?

“You don’t have to do it,” Merlin said resignedly. “I can always call someone else, get them to come down. It’s just with you...”

Arthur glanced over at him, surprised to find that Merlin was staring at him, so intently that he was almost looking through him and out the other side. Arthur swallowed, not at all comfortable under Merlin’s scrutiny but dying to hear the end of Merlin’s thought. Unluckily for him, Merlin didn’t seem like he was going to say anything else any time soon.

“Alright,” Arthur said, just as resigned as he turned back to the road. “I’ll do it.”

Merlin nodded and Arthur caught the hint of a smile out of the corner of his eye. For some reason, Merlin seemed to be getting a kick out of all this. Whereas all Arthur had was trepidation and a voice screaming at him that this was a bad idea. Working with Merlin would be bad enough but convincing everyone they were a couple, convincing Sophia they were a couple – that was something else all together. What if it got back to his father? He could always explain it, of course; tell him it was all a rouse. But what if... what if he ended up doing something he couldn’t pass off as part of the rouse? What if he gave in? What if he ended up doing something stupid and Merlin figured it all out. Arthur glanced over at him again. No doubt he’d find it all hilarious.

“But,” Arthur continued. “There are going to be some ground rules. We need a plan for this. I’m not just going to start running around the place hand in hand with you, alright?”

“A plan is needed. Duly noted.” Merlin nodded along but he didn’t drop the smile. If anything it grew.


	14. Chapter 14

Back at the hotel, Merlin had made himself comfortable on Arthur’s bed, a notepad open and pen scribbling away, drawing up a contract for their _relationship_. Arthur was pacing back and forth vetoing any idea that could lead him into temptation, with Merlin vetoing his vetoes as he said them.

“You’re staying in your own room,” Arthur said, certain this one would be an easy win. There was no reason for them to share.

“Veto. I can’t afford it; this could take weeks to work.” Merlin put the end of his pen between his teeth and Arthur had to stare at the headboard behind him in order to think clearly.

“I’ll pay,” Arthur offered, even though paying for his own room was setting him back enough. Not to mention it would be a tricky one to explain to his father.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Merlin said, borrowing Arthur’s favourite insult. “My room is the size of a shoe box and you’ve got more than enough room to share. There is no point paying for both. Besides, we’re meant to be a couple, what if Sophia drops by or rings reception? It’ll be hard to explain to her why I’m sleeping twelve feet below you instead of-”

“We’re not sharing a bed!” Arthur interjected, before Merlin suggested it.

“You can sleep in the bath tub then,” Merlin stared him down. “Look, there’s enough room for Goldilocks and The Three Bears is this bed. Don’t be such a baby.”

Arthur grumbled and walked himself over to one of the tiny armchairs to think about a way around sleeping in the same bed as Merlin. Merlin however seemed decided and had moved on.

“We’ll need to be as public with this as we possibly can,” Merlin said, almost to himself. “The more of an impression we make, the quicker we’ll get an invite I reckon. If they have most of the couples already, they might be running out of them and we might just stand a chance.”

“That’s a lot of _mights_ ,” Arthur pointed out because he couldn’t disagree otherwise.

“Yes, well, the world turns on _mights_ and _maybes_ ,” Merlin answered. “Can you think of any public events we can go to that would get us noticed?”

Arthur thought about it, trying to recall every invite he’d been sent over the last few months. Rich people did like to throw a party over the slightest thing. “There’s a fundraiser for one of Morgana’s charities. A family wedding though it’s not my family as such, it’s Morgana’s cousin, Mordred’s. And my mate Lance’s birthday. That’s all in the next few weeks.” Arthur bit his lip, not wanting to show weakness but needing to say it. “You know we don’t have longer than that. Elena was killed after a month.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Merlin dismissed. “Perhaps she was killed because she was no longer of use. She sold her house, right? Maybe they got all they needed from her.”

“And what if they realise they can’t get anything out of Morgana?” Arthur asked. If the idea of taking Morgana’s money was all that was keeping her alive, maybe they’d fucked up big time by stopping the sales.

“They won’t, not yet. It takes time for these things to go through.” Merlin pulled a face. “And if we start to get nervous, we can pretend it has been sold. Shuffle money around, I’ll pose as a buyer for her house, we’ll sort something out. Until then we have a fundraiser to prepare for, a wedding to RSVP and a birthday present to buy.”

Arthur tried to smile and be grateful; Merlin was only trying to help. But for a man he didn’t ever want to spend any amount of time with, he sure seemed to be closing in on every side.

_Christmas 2010_

Somehow the someplace quiet had turned into Arthur’s office. It was far enough from the party that they could hear themselves think and talk but close enough that they could still hear the music, far off. That song by Hellogoodbye. One of the few songs he didn’t mind.

He pulled out the chair that usually sat behind his desk while Merlin took the liberty of perching on the desk itself. Merlin’s drink was running out and Arthur knew he needed another himself. “I’ve got a bottle of Scotch somewhere.”

Merlin smiled brightly, nodded and drained his glass to accommodate the offered drink. Arthur slid open one of the drawers and produced the promised Scotch, handing it to Merlin to pour.

“Fuck me, Pendragon, this is worth more than the whole bar out there and older than I am,” Merlin said with an accompanying whistle of awe. “Are you sure you want to open it?”

“Yeah, I get one every birthday and Christmas. I have about five bottles at home,” Arthur said, shrugging as he drained his own glass. “Go ahead.”

Arthur slid his glass over the desk before he walked around to join it. He sat down in his chair; closer to Merlin’s dangling legs than was probably safe given that every so often he would kick them out. He accepted the large measure that Merlin poured him and did his best not to down it as soon as the glass was in his hands. He didn’t have a clue what he was doing. He just knew he fancied Merlin like Hell and there was the tiniest chance Merlin might like him and maybe, just maybe, one of them would have the balls to do something about it.

“So what do you do, Merlin, I’ve never had the chance to ask?” Arthur asked, hoping he could brush off the fact they’d never really spoken before now and that it was Arthur’s fault they hadn’t.

“I’m a journalist...” Merlin gave him an odd look. “I do work here right? I am at the right party?”

“Yes, you’re at the right party. Just how many of those have you had?” Arthur gestured to Merlin’s glass but smiled despite himself. “I meant more specifically. What’s your area? What do you like?”

“Oh yes, I see.” Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and Arthur took opportunity to take a large swallow of his drink without looking like he was as nervous as he was. “I’m trying to get into paranormal investigation. You know, ghosts and vampires and magic.”

Arthur looked Merlin over. He was skinny, small even and as adorable as they came. Arthur couldn’t imagine him facing a ghost or a vampire.

“You think it’s stupid,” Merlin said, opening his eyes at the sound of Arthur laughing. “It’s ok, everyone thinks it’s stupid. But I don’t know, I like to think anything is possible and nobody would ever know if there weren’t idiots like me to believe.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Arthur’s eyes caught his and he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t make a joke. He couldn’t even remember why he’d laughed. “Everyone needs something to believe in, why not that?”

“That makes you a minority, Pendragon.” Merlin set down his glass but didn’t move to refill it.

“Arthur,” he found himself saying absently though in all honestly, Merlin could call him Gladys for all he cared. He moved to put his glass beside Merlin’s, unintentionally leaning into Merlin’s personal space.

“Alright then,” Merlin said with a small laugh. “ _Arthur_.”

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat and he paused mid-reach for the bottle. He couldn’t help but look up at him; he couldn’t hear his name said like that, whispered as if it were some great secret and not look up at him.

It was a mistake. A very big, obvious, screaming mistake. Because this close, all he could see was blue eyes and pink lips and the line of his jaw, the lines of his cheekbones and fuck, he was caught like a rabbit in headlights. There was nothing else he could do. Nothing he could say. All he could do was lean up to meet him and hope for the best.

His lips had barely brushed Merlin’s, a test of the waters, when he found himself being kissed properly. He gave himself over to it, unable to do anything else. It wasn’t like any time a girl had kissed him. It wasn’t boring and uncomfortable. He didn’t want it to be over. No, it sent a spark through him and made him want to grab for more instead. But just as he decided he would, that he would really go for it, Merlin drew away.

“Sorry,” he said absently, leaving Arthur dazed. “Sorry, sometimes I forget I can’t just-”

If he hadn't meant to kiss Merlin the first time, he certainly hadn't meant to kiss him again but the fact that Merlin thought he'd somehow initiated it himself and that was making him back out of it... Arthur just couldn't have that. This was his damn effort at accepting himself, he wasn't about to let it go because of crossed wires. Not if Merlin was up for it.

As if to prove himself, he kissed Merlin harder and deeper than Merlin had kissed him, not relenting until he had Merlin's hands fisted in his hair and Merlin’s feet planted on the chair either side of his thighs. Only then did he take a breath and risk it all tumbling down.

But it didn't tumble down. Merlin chased his mouth, determined that the kiss wasn't finished, that he wanted more and Arthur, rather decisively, was going to give him more. Arthur, determined to match Merlin decisiveness, steered his hands to Merlin’s knees, sliding them up until he had a decent grip on Merlin’s thighs and could put himself between them. He arched up, pushing upwards until he was barely in his chair anymore, only to be pushed back down by Merlin, whose hands had worked their way down to his shoulders, a gentle pressure returning him to his seat.

He almost asked why, why Merlin would push him away but before the words had a chance to leave his lips, actions answered his question. Merlin shifted his feet so they were no longer by his thighs and replaced them instead with his knees, pulling the rest of his body down with him until he was straddling him. Arthur took a second to thank whatever God there might be that the chair was stable and strong, with legs instead of wheels and that it held them both comfortably. Well, comfortably wasn’t exactly the word but it held them nonetheless.

Arthur’s hands relocated themselves on Merlin’s hips, playing with the hem of his shirt, waiting for reality to come crashing down. But it didn’t, the weird unreality of Merlin kissing him won out and his hands slipped under Merlin’s t-shirt, feeling skin against his fingertips until he could pull the shirt over Merlin’s head. As Merlin moved to accommodate the loss of his shirt, his hips lifted and then rolled back again, pushing his arse down on Arthur’s crotch, the thin material of his formal trousers doing nothing against the rub of the thick denim of Merlin’s jeans. He couldn’t even be embarrassed about how hard he was, just from being kissed, letting himself kiss back. He knew Merlin could feel it from the way he purposefully did it again, smiling brightly, the same smile he’d had when he’d found himself face to face with Arthur for the first time.

With Merlin grinding against him, straddled over his lap, Arthur felt confident enough to reach for the belt on Merlin’s jeans. Up until this point it had been easy, not at all that different from what his repression and lying had him used to but from here... here he was wandering into something new and relying on his instincts to steer him right. Merlin lifted his hips again to make it easier for Arthur, making it harder because all he could think about doing was pushing him back down on his cock again. He resisted the urge, just about, focusing on getting Merlin’s belt and zip undone instead. 

His hands seemed to work of their own volition, one pushing down everything that kept him from Merlin’s cock before finally wrapping around it and the other settling on Merlin’s hip, prompting him to move again, directing his movements until they were perfectly matched to his strokes. Both long languid movements, dragged out to tease and then speeding up, losing their intentions in the constant need for more. 

If Arthur even had the slightest notion what to do, he was sure he would have given Merlin more. He would have given him anything he wanted. But he’d never sucked a cock, he’d never been fucked and he’d not know where to begin if he was asked to fuck him. 

So he tightened his hold on Merlin’s hip, shifting underneath him until he couldn’t be any closer, couldn’t press up any harder. His cock perfectly settled in the cleft of Merlin’s arse, so annoyingly separated from his skin by layers of clothing. But stopping now to correct that great wrong seemed unthinkable, he was so fucking close. He pulled Merlin in, rising to meet him and Merlin rose to meet the stroke of his hand, like they were one force, moving together. It was more natural than anything he’d talked himself into doing with a woman. It felt right. And even though he’d only really met him properly an hour or two again, he felt like this was what he’d been chasing his whole life. He thought if this was it, what he’d been running from, maybe he should stop running.

Merlin’s hips bucked under his hand, taking back the lead while Arthur’s mind had started spouting nonsense at him. He could only hope he hadn’t said any of it aloud. Merlin’s hands tightened on his shoulders, the leverage giving Merlin much more strength and for a second, Arthur feared the chair really wasn’t strong enough. Not that he particularly cared. He could always get a new chair. He might never have Merlin again.

He titled his head up, catching Merlin looking down at him through his lashes, his eyes barely open but focused. There was a moment of near clarity, where Arthur realised just what the Hell he was doing, what it could mean, what could be said but Merlin’s lips caught his again and it all flew away like dust on the wind, leaving him with only the feel of Merlin’s hands on his neck, the friction of Merlin’s arse against his cock and the heat of his mouth. A heady combination that threw him over the edge, come soaking through his underwear like he was a teenager again.

Merlin was still rocking helplessly back and forth over his cock, literally riding out his orgasm for him but Arthur knew that wouldn’t be enough for Merlin like it had been enough for him. He stilled Merlin’s hips, his attention narrowed to just Merlin’s cock in the haze of everything else. When the rest of the world focused, he saw Merlin’s head fall back, making Arthur’s eyes follow the line of his jaw down to his neck. Drawn to it, he kissed up from Merlin’s collarbone to the hollow under his jaw, only dimly aware of Merlin’s thighs drawing in tight around him until he felt the first wave of come, hot between his fingers where it had been perfectly timed with his thumb absently running over the head of Merlin’s cock. The second wave wasn’t as well timed and ended up covering his fortunately white shirt. His black tie wasn’t as lucky but he didn’t care. He pulled Merlin to him, making him rise up on his knees so that he could rest his head against Merlin’s chest, damp with sweat and with the sound of Merlin’s thundering heart thumping in his ear. He closed his eyes, just for a moment.

_Present Day_

“We can’t just rush into this,” Arthur said, deciding he thoroughly didn’t trust himself around Merlin, not around people he knew, not where alcohol was served and certainly not without practice.

“There’s a wedding tomorrow night, the girl at reception asked me if I was attending,” Merlin said casually.

“We can’t pretend to be wedding guests,” Arthur said, shaking his head.

“Why not? We’re pretending to be a couple; you’re pretending to be gay, for heaven’s sake.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “But that’s where you’re drawing the line, really?”

“Yes but they’ll know we’re not wedding guests,” Arthur reminded him.

“Not if we leave it a few hours, let the open bar do its work.” Merlin shrugged.

Arthur bit his lip, running out of excuses and unable to tell the truth. He couldn’t trust himself not to repeat the past. He couldn’t risk Merlin remembering.

_Christmas 2010_

Somehow, though God knows how, he’d managed to make them both look respectable enough to leave his office. Arthur had intended to walk home, it wasn’t far at all to his house and Merlin had agreed it was for the best that they part ways before they incriminated themselves any further. But seeing Merlin shiver in just his t-shirt while waiting for the taxi he’d called rendered him unable to leave.

“Here,” he said, slipping his jacket from his shoulders and holding it out to Merlin. “Take this.”

Merlin eyed him, a confused look on his face but he took the jacket without a word.

“Come on, I’ll split the cab with you and then you don’t have to freeze all the way home,” Arthur offered, his hand finding Merlin’s arm and guiding him towards a taxi as it pulled up.

“I know what you’re doing, you know,” Merlin said, shrugging away from Arthur’s touch. “You don’t have to. I get it. You feel bad for fooling around with me because you’re straight really. It was just a bit of fun, you’re drunk, I’m drunk, I get it. You don’t have to pretend, I don’t care. I’ve been down that road so many times I could run guided tours of it. Just go home, fuck your girlfriend and I’ll be on my merry way, ok?”

“It’s not like that,” Arthur said uselessly. He couldn’t follow it up with what it was like, that was even more pathetic.

“Yeah, right.” Merlin shook his head but got into the taxi.

Arthur followed him in and waited for Merlin to give an address before he tried again. “It’s not like that. I’m not like that. I don’t have a girlfriend and I don’t want to go home yet because I’d rather be with you for a few more minutes, is that alright?”

Merlin looked at him sideways and for a moment, Arthur thought he was actually going to be kicked out of the cab but Merlin shrugged instead. “It’s much easier being honest, isn’t it?”

“Why do you care?” Arthur glared back at him. This wasn’t supposed to be how this went. This was why it was a bad idea.

“I don’t,” Merlin reminded him, turning back to face the window. “You do you, I’ll do me and we never have to think about it again. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Arthur turned his glare towards his own window, heat rising in his cheeks when he saw the taxi driver watching them in the rear view mirror. “Can’t it just be what it is?”

The car pulled to a halt and Merlin opened his door, pausing with one foot on the curb so that he could peel off Arthur’s jacket and shove it into his lap. “Once you work out what the fuck it is, you let me know.”

Arthur let out a shaky breath as the taxi door slammed. He knew what he was meant to do. He was meant to go after him. That’s what people did in films. But he couldn’t do it. What would he say? He sank back into his seat with a sigh and gave the cabbie his address.

_Present Day_

Arthur sank back into his chair with a sigh. “Fine, have it your way.”

“See, it’s much easier if you just agree with me,” Merlin said, smiling brightly.

Arthur shivered at the words but he was sure Merlin didn’t remember. He’d always been snarky and a bit of a bitch to Arthur but then, Arthur had learned that it was easier to be snarky back than wait for the axe to drop. And the axe never dropped. Or it hadn’t yet.

The morning after, he’d expected the shit to hit the fan. As a general rule, one shouldn’t piss off the one person who could unravel every lie ever you’d told but Arthur had managed to do just that. The next morning there’d been an email from Merlin with a pre-emptive apology for anything he’d done and anyone he’d hit on while drunk, with a disclaimer that he’d drunk too much and a belated thank you to whoever had seen that he’d made it home safely. Arthur’s breath had stuck in his throat until he noticed it was a group email.

He’d still not quite bought it at the time but over the years, the emails like that built up and the rumours got around that Merlin was an easy drunk who because insanely easy when drunk. It was gradually brought to Arthur’s attention that Merlin behaved the same way with everyone, not just him and whatever connection they’d had meant less than nothing to Merlin. He smiled like that at everyone.

Gaius was adamant that whatever Arthur’s problem was, it was in his head. Arthur was willing to believe that Merlin had forgotten their ill begotten time together, just like Arthur tried to forget it, but he refused to believe it was _all_ in his head. There was something waiting just under the surface ready to explode, he just didn’t know if it was waiting inside Merlin or inside himself.

He looked up at Merlin, the bright smile gone because he didn’t realise he was being watched. He was staring down at the list Arthur had made him write, pen between his teeth again. Arthur had a feeling that whatever was boiling under the surface wasn’t even touching him.

“When this is done, we’ll have to tell the truth,” Arthur said, the words escaping him before he’d had chance to think them through. He wasn’t even sure what he meant.

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Whatever you say, _darling_.”


	15. Chapter 15

They spent the rest of the day going over details. Details of the case. Details about each other. Details about their make believe relationship. Arthur didn’t dare put anything into the melting pot for that last one just in case he said the wrong thing; hit something too close to home.

He’d phoned his father and left a message saying that he was working a case, Morgana’s case, and whatever he heard was part of the case and he’d explain it all when it was over. He knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. If his father found out, he’d be bombarded on all fronts until he broke and explained himself. But he needed to work out what he’d say first. _I’m not really gay_ seemed too much of a betrayal, even to himself.

When he hung up the phone, he could feel the tension run though him, the worry. What if he fucked it all somewhere along the line and it became obvious he wasn’t pretending? He’d made that mistake once and been handed a reprieve. He wasn’t about to make it again.

“You’ll be fine,” Merlin said from behind him, having apparently silently risen from the bed. The bed had acted as a desk and a dinner table for them both, and Merlin had barely left it, only getting up every so often to stretch his legs. “Just close your eyes.”

Arthur complied and tried not to jump when Merlin’s hands touched his shoulders, and when he failed, he could almost feel Merlin’s patronising smile at his back. 

“Just forget for a moment, it’s easy,” Merlin told him and this time it was Arthur that smiled condescendingly. If only he fucking knew.

But he did his best to pretend. That’s what he needed to do, wasn’t it? Pretend.

He pretended that he wasn’t thinking about him as Merlin’s hands moved over his shoulder, down one arm as their owner moved to stand in front of him, unseen. He pretended it wasn’t Merlin’s hands that took his own and held them for a moment, innocently as anything. But when he felt the heat of Merlin’s breath against his lips, he couldn’t pretend. His eyes snapped open and he dropped Merlin’s hands. He couldn’t do it. Not again.

“Look, don’t panic, it doesn’t mean anything,” Merlin said trying to soothe him. “It’s just... practice, so you know what to expect.”

Arthur felt like yelling at him, telling him that he knew exactly what to expect and that was what scared him but he couldn’t. He turned away instead.

“Come on, don’t be such a prat,” Merlin said, moving to approach him again. He’d just reached out for Arthur’s arm when Arthur turned, shaking him off.

He’d meant to say something. Defend his fear maybe but he found himself doing the opposite and giving into it, rising to Merlin’s bait. It wasn’t much of a kiss. It was angry, hard, a brutal press of lips that served to prove his point and silence something inside him for a few seconds. When he broke away, he didn’t feel any better for it.

“Happy now?” Arthur asked even though he could put money on Merlin feeling just as empty as he did. Whatever he was trying, it wasn’t working.


	16. Chapter 16

Arthur woke in the middle of the night and wished he hadn’t. He’d somehow managed to get to sleep even though he was completely unused to sharing his bed. What was worse was he had no way of rationalising what was happening. He was sharing a bed with Merlin.

He’d tried to suggest putting pillows between them to build a divide but Merlin had given him such a withering look that he’d stopped mid-sentence and got into bed without another word. He almost wished he’d fought harder because now he was face to face with Merlin, completely still and sleeping. It was a beautiful sight really, for about three seconds.

“I can feel you staring, you know.” Merlin’s eyes snapped open and Arthur looked away a fraction of a second too late. “What’s wrong, why are you being all creepy?”

“I can’t sleep,” Arthur admitted, refusing to look at Merlin directly even though only a few feet separated them.

“I could, up until about sixty seconds ago.” Merlin rolled onto his back, resting his head in his crooked elbow. “Whatever it is, get it off your chest so you can sleep and then I can sleep.”

“I’m worried,” Arthur said, deciding it was safe to look at him now without it being too intimate. “Aren’t you worried?”

“About what?” Merlin asked.

“I don’t know.” Arthur closed his eyes for a second, trying to put it into words without sharing what he really felt. “What if it all goes wrong and we’ll blow it by fighting like we have been all day? And what if it all goes right? Aren’t you worried what people will think... about you being with me?”

“Arthur, I assure you if people are going to judge me, they’ll have done it by now. I can’t do anything about it, it sucks but that’s the way it is. I don’t care what people think.” Merlin turned to look at him. “As for you annoying me, because that is what you’re asking, you might be a prat but I can ignore the prat in favour of the pretty. For a week or so at least.”

“Let’s hope the same applies to you and your idiocy,” Arthur replied automatically.

“Are you saying I’m pretty?” Merlin cracked one of his bright grins then let it fade when Arthur didn’t play along. “Look, I know this is hard for you or whatever but you can do it. I know I make it worse by making jokes and flirting but I can’t help it, I only have one setting and this is it. I can’t do anything about it so I’m not going to try. I could argue with you until you’re blue in the face, like you seem to want me to but that would be worse, wouldn’t it? Can’t we just do this the easy way? I promise it’s not as hard as you think.”

Arthur couldn’t say anything so he just nodded and closed his eyes. It sounded too much like a softer version of an argument they’d had years ago. The words sounded like a roundabout way of saying being honest was easier. But maybe he was just reading more into it because he knew what honesty was, what it entailed. And what pretending would entail. He could almost believe that honesty would be easier.

This time when he felt Merlin’s breath on his lips, he didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t pull away. He let it happen. He played along. He gave Merlin what he wanted. He slept sounder for it.


	17. Chapter 17

In the morning he woke to sunlight and a whole host of doubts. He could block them out for a bit, with Merlin curled around him, probably unintentionally but Merlin would wake eventually and they’d have to plan what they were going to do. They’d have to start making arrangements and answering questions. But for now Merlin slept and Arthur didn’t want to leave the unfamiliar warmth at his back.

Instead he thought about the drink they’d shared in his office, the genuine smile he’d gotten when he’d told Merlin his ideas weren’t stupid, the way his startling blue eyes had stared down at him in that second before he’d kissed him and finally, the way he’d assumed he’d kissed him. The presumption that Arthur wouldn’t kiss him first, even though he had. Everything after that was a blur that he couldn’t blame on the Scotch. Everything after _that_ was a downward spiral that he didn’t want to think about. He hit a mental pause button on the blur, the heady drunk feeling that giving in to what he really wanted had given him. He’d never felt anything like it before that night. He’d never felt anything like it since. If Merlin stayed sleeping, he could pretend it hadn’t all gone to Hell.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here In Your Arms by HelloGoodbye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJ6wDj44dkc), in case anyone was curious. It's also the song mentioned a few chapters ago.

It was decided they would crash the wedding reception. It was the only way to test drive their so called relationship. Arthur tried to put up a better fight but the abstract idea of it seemed pleasant. He could pretend for a while again. That was what he was supposed to be doing anyway.

After all the commitments that Merlin had made him commit to, it didn’t seem like the hardest hurdle they would face. It was just a wedding reception. Free drinks. Some dancing. Some pretending. Merlin was right, they needed it. He needed it.

He’d loaned Merlin a shirt to wear with a pair of black jeans. Even though he couldn’t talk him into a suit, he looked passably smart.

“You ready?” Merlin asked him, looking him up and down. He’d gone with a suit. He always went with a suit.

“No,” Arthur answered honestly.

“Good, let’s go.” Merlin pulled the door open, pocketing Arthur’s room key in the process. 

Once downstairs, Arthur surveyed the crowd and wondered whatever possessed him to agree to this.

"What's wrong, do you want to dance?" Merlin asked, following his daze to the bopping kids and the dancing dads.

"That's not dancing," Arthur answered, pulling a face. "Dancing has steps and rules."

"Well, I don't advise that you try to do the foxtrot to Lady GaGa but I need a laugh if you're determined to." Merlin grinned at him before taking his hand. "Come on, let's go dance."

Arthur did his best not to look down at their hands together. It was all part of the plan; get some practice before they had to do this for real. Dancing however was not part of the plan.

"We can't." Arthur looked around nervously. "We're both men."

Merlin leaned into him to whisper dramatically. "Oh my God, are we? Is that what that is? I always thought that's what people meant when they asked if you have an innie or an outtie."

Arthur gave him a withering look. "You're an idiot."

"It's just a dance, nobody will even care," Merlin said more softly. “And if they do, fuck ‘em, it’s not like we know any of them anyway.”

He stood and Arthur had not choice by to follow or risk being dragged across the floor by the hand Merlin still had a hold of. The song changed as they approached the dance floor and Arthur’s backbone deserted him.

“This is a bad idea,” he protested.

“It’s a great idea, I love this song.” Merlin smiled brightly and hummed along to the start of the song. Arthur dimly recognized it; that song from a good few years ago with the awfully repetitive lines about lips brushing and cheeks touching. A blush rose at the thought and it deepened when he remembered the last time he’d heard the song.

“See, this is more your speed,” Merlin said, keeping a tight grasp on Arthur’s hand to keep him from bolting. Arthur took in a sharp breath as Merlin’s other hand went to the small of his back, dragging him into Merlin’s personal space.

“Why do I not believe you?” Arthur said but let Merlin lead him in what could passably be called a dance. 

It was true, the song started slow enough but it had also been overplayed enough that he knew it didn’t stay that way. But then, part of Arthur wished it would speed up because as the song informed him that _I I like where we are; here_ , Arthur couldn’t help but notice that for him, _here_ was pressed up to Merlin with the guy’s hand on the small of his back, making him take each step, making him sway.

As the song encouraged him that _our lips can touch_ , he found himself breathing in sharply again, trying to avoid Merlin’s eyes because in the position they were in, their lips could touch. At the thought that _our cheeks can brush_ and they could, if Arthur only turned his head slightly, he caught himself looking. Just long enough to catch the trouble making grin on Merlin’s face before he spun away from him while the song held for a beat.

Arthur knew what was coming, as the song reminded him that _you are the one, the one that lies close to me_ and he had just enough time to brace himself for Merlin spinning back in, like a bloody ballroom dancer, until he was close to him. His other hand caught him and the rest of him, still stunned, just held Merlin, his arms locked around him, pulling him into his body as something _whispers "Hello, I've missed you quite terribly"_.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Arthur managed to choke out before Merlin lifted his arms and ducked back under them, righting them both somehow as he panicked because _I fell in love, in love with you suddenly_.

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted, invading Arthur’s space once again and stepping over his feet, blocking him from taking another step. “Just don’t drop me; I’m going to take this one literally.”

Arthur’s eyes went wide but he didn’t have time to say anything because Merlin was leaning backwards and the song really did have a point because for Merlin, _there's no place else I could be but here in your arms_.

Arthur held him there for a second, balanced over his thigh before righting him. The song, for a time, slowed again and he had a moment to glare at Merlin who just shrugged again, resuming his hold on Arthur’s hand and back.

“You didn’t want to dance like a normal person,” Merlin reminded him but Arthur didn’t relent. Everyone was staring now and Merlin at least had the common decency to look mildly embarrassed. “Alright, I’ll behave.”

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Arthur asked but he couldn’t keep glaring, he had to smile when Merlin rolled his eyes. 

“Jealous,” Merlin muttered under his breath. 

The song had come back around again to _our lips can touch_ but it wasn’t tense any more. If nothing else, Merlin’s idiocy had broken the ice and when the chorus came through again, Arthur made the effort to spin him out. With Arthur taking the lead, Merlin’s moves seemed almost rehearsed but then, he was pulling out the same tricks. Only this time, Arthur was laughing along with him.

When they got back into the normal stance, the song decided it wasn’t quite ready to slow yet and Merlin somehow ended up spinning him spontaneously and getting his foot trodden on for his efforts. Merlin caught him all the same and drew him in closer, taking the lead back as the song slowed again. Arthur could swear the space between them was so small it was immeasurable. He could feel Merlin’s heart like it was in his own chest. He fleetingly thought how fast it was beating as Merlin leaned in. _Our lips can touch_.

“Don’t panic,” Merlin whispered before closing the last gap between them, his fingertips digging into Arthur’s waist. _Our lips, can touch; here_.

Just as instructed, their lips did touch, there, and Arthur didn’t fight it. He wanted to pretend he wasn’t fighting because it was part of the act, part of the whole charade and not that despite himself, he was having a really great time with Merlin . 

_You are the one the one that lies close to me_.

He’d never admit it, of course. He’d never give Merlin the satisfaction of knowing that despite his protests and his insults, he rather liked this. Really liked it. It was becoming a bit of a problem actually as he inadvertently deepened the kiss before he realised what he was doing and the effect it was having on him.

 _Whispers "Hello, I've missed you quite terribly"_.

Arthur pulled away awkwardly and cleared his throat, hoping they could be gentlemen and pretend nothing had just happened. There was a pause where they both started at each other until the music kicked back in, bringing them back to the moment. 

_I fell in love, in love with you suddenly_.

Merlin gave him another one of those strange smiles but he didn’t say anything and kept up the charade that this was normal for them.

 _Now there's no place else I could be but here in your arms_.

He didn’t even try and get him dancing again, he just stood, hands stilled on Arthur’s elbows from where he’d pulled away.

 _You are the one the one that lies close to me_.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink,” Merlin suggested tactfully. 

_Whispers "Hello I miss you, I miss you"_.

“You look like you could do with one.” Merlin held out his hand, seemingly reflexively.

 _I fell in love, in love with you suddenly_.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Arthur said, mostly to himself but he took Merlin’s hand without a fuss.

_Now there's no place else I could be but here in your arms._

It hadn’t just been one drink. It had been quite a few drinks. But despite Merlin acting like an idiot, they’d gotten away with it. Nobody had shouted _you’re not supposed to be here_ or _you’re not a real couple_. As far as Arthur could tell, they’d fooled everyone. Even themselves for a moment.

“Are you ready then?” Merlin asked, his words slightly slurred. Merlin really was an easy drunk.

His question echoed from earlier, from a moment where Arthur hadn’t been ready and he’d answered honestly then. He was going to answer honestly now. “Yeah, I think so.”

Merlin smiled at him, that rare smile that was real and leaned in close. “See, I told you it was easy.”

Arthur tried not to look at how close his lips were, how his eyelashes were fluttering, his eyes trying to focus. Merlin was drunk. He wasn’t. Anything he did would be taking advantage but his brain couldn’t communicate that to his mouth before Merlin was kissing him. Or he was kissing Merlin. He was losing track. He didn’t need to put up a fight though; Merlin broke away soon enough with a laugh. “See? Easy.”

“Yes, Merlin, easy,” Arthur agreed, pandering to him now. “Now, bed.”

“Oh, I’m not _that_ easy,” Merlin said, the laugh turning into a giggle.

Arthur’s mind flashed to the way Merlin had chased him when he’d broken their first kiss, the forgotten one, an image that would stay with him forever. He hadn’t been as drunk then but it was just as pointless in the long run as anything he said now would be.

“Yeah, sure,” Arthur said instead and led Merlin towards the bed, dumping him down on it. 

To his relief Merlin seemed able enough to pull his own clothes off but didn’t seem to understand that he should put different ones on. Arthur cursed himself and didn’t point out Merlin’s oversight. He copied his mistake. And it was a mistake because the instant he pulled the sheets over himself, he seemed to pull Merlin over himself as well. He could feel Merlin’s chest perfectly against his back. He could feel their skin pressed together. He’d never been this close to him. Not even that night in his office. He couldn’t bear to push him away so he ended the day as he’d begun it. Pretending that that night had ended like this one.


	19. Chapter 19

Arthur was pacing again. He couldn’t damn well stop it, he’d been on and off pacing since the moment he’d woken up. This was it. Once he made this call, it would spread faster than food poisoning at a festival.

In Morgana's absence, Sophia had been put in charge of the ball. Technically speaking it was the event furthest away, a good job really, but seeing as he'd originally sent back the RSVP declining, he had to call her first. He got through on the third attempt.

"Sophia, hi," Arthur said, trying to sound as casual as he could. He listened as she rambled through all the usual small talk, palms sweating and nerves jangling until he had to cut her short or risk losing his nerve. “Yes, that’s great. Anyway, about Morgana’s fundraiser next week. As I’m here anyway, is there any chance I can change my mind about coming?”

“Yeah, sure, we kept you a place card by just in case,” Sophia said brightly.

“And I really hate to do this but can I bring my plus one along?” Arthur looked at Merlin, his heart racing. Merlin gave him a reassuring nod and it slowed ever so slightly.

“Oh,” Sophia paused and then recovered herself. “Of course. What name shall I put down?”

"Sure, it's..." Arthur drew a blank. He'd never found out Merlin's full name.

"Merlin," he supplied unhelpfully and much too loudly.

Arthur apologised and covered his phone with his hand. "I know that bit idiot, what's the rest?"

"Emrys," Merlin mouthed at him. Arthur raised his eyebrows prompting Merlin to follow up with, "it's Welsh or something."

"You're not Welsh," Arthur said reflexively.

"Yeah, I'd noticed but that's the funny thing with names, they're passed down through generations. I mean, you're not exactly a dragon, are you?"

"Yeah, alright, I get it," Arthur said, shushing him again and returning to his phone call. "Sorry, Sophia, I was just checking he could make it. The name is "Merlin Emrys"."

"That's not..." Sophia paused and changed tactic. "Dark hair, blue eyes, cheekbones Claudia Schiffer would kill for?"

"That's him," Arthur answered. There was no point hiding it, she'd find out sooner or later. That was sort of the point.

"Oh my God, then you're the boyfriend then!" Sophia practically screamed down the phone. "Oh my God, Arthur!"

"Jesus, calm down," Arthur said, having nearly been deafened. "He told me he'd dropped by the yard. He's annoyingly presumptive like that."

"No, no, he was a darling but Arthur... you could have told me. I'm always the last to know these things." Sophia sighed on the other end of the phone. Arthur felt like telling her she was in fact the first to know but that would take even more explaining.

"Yes, well, we were trying to keep it quiet. You remember what Father was like with Morgana. I wanted to wait until..." Arthur trailed off. Waiting for what exactly?

"I completely understand, you were waiting for true love," Sophia finished for him.

Arthur nearly scoffed, nearly said that if true love existed, he was fairly certain it didn't look like Merlin. Instead he made some non-committal agreement and was assured that a place of honour would be set aside for Merlin, next to him.

After quite a few hints, Sophia finally said goodbye and Arthur was allowed to hang up. Merlin was still hovering, of course.

"See, wasn't so bad. Trust me, the real thing is worse." Merlin gave him a small smile that Arthur guessed was supposed to be reassuring but it just came across as sad.

Arthur had never thought about Merlin like that. He'd always resented him for being so open and comfortable with his sexuality, the thought had never occurred to Arthur that he'd had to work to be that way, that at some point he'd struggled like Arthur was struggling himself.

Arthur wanted to ask him how he did it, how he got where he was, a place that Arthur so wanted to be in, even if he didn't have the courage to take the necessary steps. But he couldn't ask, he didn't even have the courage for that. Instead he shrugged, like it was nothing.

“Next is Mordred but I’m already going to his wedding, so it’s you that’s the inconvenience this time,” Arthur said, looking up the next number and catching the face Merlin pulled as he put the phone to his ear.

“Mordred, hi,” Arthur said, sticking to the same template as before. “I don’t think Morgana’s going to be able to attend this weekend.”

Arthur caught Merlin looking again. He didn’t want to worry Morgana’s family with her disappearance, not until he found her safe and sound.

“So, I was thinking, could I bring someone else instead?” Arthur waited as he heard the sounds of a stressed bride-to-be screaming in the distance.

“Yeah, that’s fine, mate, of course,” Mordred answered, contrary to the screaming. “Tell Morgana I’m sorry she couldn’t make it and I hope to see her soon.”

“I will,” Arthur said, praying that he could keep to that promise.

“So, are you coming to the stag then? I sent your invite via Morgana but I’ve not heard back from you until now,” Mordred continued.

Arthur grasped at air. What did he say? He didn’t want to turn Mordred down but he didn’t want to agree without running it past Merlin first. He mouthed _stag?_ at him and got a vigorous nod in return along with one of his bright smiles.

“Sure, let me take down the details,” Arthur agreed, motioning for a pen and paper then scribbling down Mordred’s instructions. “Oh and this is going to sound odd but can I bring a date?”

Arthur held his breath, aware that Merlin had gone from _plus one_ to _someone else_ to _date_ in quick succession. Merlin didn’t seem to notice.

“Not sure that’s how it works, Arthur, it’s meant to be just us boys,” Mordred reminded him.

“Ah,” Arthur said, letting go of the breath like he was coming up for air. “He is a boy. His name’s Merlin.”

“Oh! Sorry! I had no idea,” Mordred said hurriedly. “Yes, of course, the more the merrier.”

“Thanks, he’ll be thrilled,” Arthur said before making his goodbyes.

“Mmm, a stag do as well. At this rate you may as well be dating me, I think this is the most action I’ve had all year.” Merlin sat back on Arthur’s bed, bouncing slightly like an excited child.

Arthur pulled a face. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Oh, alright then,” Merlin focused for a second, sobering. “It’s the closest thing I’ve come to actually having a relationship lately. Is that better?”

“I don’t know but it makes two of us,” Arthur admitted, not sure what to make of it. He was glad, he couldn’t help it, that Merlin wasn’t seeing anyone but it twisted inside him bitterly that he was still fucking his way through the male population of the world.

“Right pair, aren’t we?” Merlin said with an almost nostalgic smile. Arthur was buggered if he knew what Merlin was being nostalgic about, it wasn’t like they had any _good old days_ in their past.

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed even though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was agreeing with. “Just Lancelot now.”

There was a pause and when Arthur didn’t move to make the call, Merlin rose from the bed. “Do you want my help?”

“How can you help make a phone call?” Arthur asked, snapping because he felt like butterflies were eating him from the inside out. “No, I’ve got to tell him. It’s just hard. He’s my oldest friend.”

“If he’s a friend worth having, he’ll be happy for you,” Merlin said, his hand gently brushing Arthur’s arm.

Arthur shrugged him off, feeling even worse. “I know that. Of course he’ll be happy. That’s-” Arthur broke off. He couldn’t say it.

_That’s the problem_ , he finished in his head. He knew that Lancelot would be over the moon for him. Lancelot would support him. Lancelot would want to know why he hadn’t told him sooner. Lancelot would be hurt that he’d not trusted him.

“It will be fine. I’m here, in any way I can help,” Merlin told him, his hand moving up to Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur looked away. It was almost cruel. All the times he'd dreamed of doing this, of being brave enough to come out and now he was actually doing it but as a charade. Merlin squeezed his shoulder, in some of these dreams, before he'd learned to resent him; Merlin had been beside him, just like he was now. It was insanity that he should be doing this now, as a falsehood, rather than doing it properly. Perhaps not with the others but with Lancelot. Lancelot would know it as the truth.

Arthur dialled the number and sank down on the bed, Merlin sitting beside him, while he waited for the ringing to give way to a voice. He nearly lost his nerve at the last minute but the sound of Lancelot's voice was the most comforting thing he'd heard in days. Lancelot actually sounded pleased to hear from him. Arthur knew he had to do it.

"Lance, are you free at the moment?" Arthur asked, knowing this could become a long conversation.

"Yeah, of course, what's up?" Lancelot replied.

Arthur sighed. Everything was up, where to begin. "Look, I have to tell you something and I'm sorry I'm only telling you now. I should have told you a long time ago, I should have told everyone really but I'm bricking it, you see."

Arthur paused and Merlin surprised him by slipping his hand into his own. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that but he didn't move it or pull away himself. He accepted the gesture of... what? It wasn't friendship; they'd never really got along. It wasn't camaraderie either, Merlin didn't know the truth of all this. But it was up there with the looks of concern and the nights spent curled around each other until morning light parted them out of embarrassment. Arthur had chosen to label it comfort and that's what it was, comforting.

He returned his attention to the phone call. He'd left Lancelot waiting but Lancelot hadn't pushed him. It was almost as if he knew already. He cleared his throat and finally, finally said the words out loud, "I'm gay."

Merlin's hand gripped his tighter. It was almost like he knew too. Like he could feel it was real somehow. Which was ridiculous, of course, Merlin barely knew him, not really. But Arthur found himself squeezing back anyway.

"I'm glad you told me," Lancelot said simply. "Thank you."

Arthur was rendered speechless for a second, struck dumb by Lancelot thanking him. "You don't have to say that. I'm just sorry I couldn't say it sooner."

"No, I understand," Lancelot said before Arthur started babbling.

Arthur smiled weakly to himself. Of course Lancelot understood, he always did, no matter what it was Arthur had done. "So, is it ok if I bring him to your birthday?"

"Yeah, I can't wait to meet him," Lancelot said and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. No questions asked, no answers needed. No uncomfortable explanation. Just a simple acceptance.

"Thank you," Arthur said again. He'd never been so grateful in his life. It was like the weight he constantly carried on his shoulders, all the denial and repression and lies; it wasn't so heavy any more for one instant of telling the truth.

"You're welcome. You can call anytime you want, you know, if you want to," Lancelot said sincerely, as if he knew Arthur's thoughts. "Anyway, see you next week."

"Yeah," Arthur said warmly. "Bye."

Arthur hung up the phone and held it in his hands. It was warm from the amount of time he'd had it pressed to his ear. A part of him wondered if Morgana had felt like this, if Merlin had, when they came out. Like there was a moment where he wanted to throw his hands up and say _fuck it all_. He let out a deep breath, sure the momentary relief of saying it out loud would soon come crashing down one way or another.

"So..." Merlin started quietly. "Looks like we have a birthday party to prepare for."

Arthur glanced at him sideways, thankful for the distraction. "Yeah."


	20. Chapter 20

Joining the spread of information on the bed were the finer details of Arthur's personal life. Pictures of his family, his friends, his holidays, his favourite memories. All the things a boyfriend should know.

"If that's your father..." Merlin pointed to a picture of Uther stood in front of his towering office block the day he acquisitioned it. "Why are you working for a boring London paper, of all things?"

"I wanted to do something different, something honest," Arthur answered without really thinking about it. His father had asked him the same question so many times; he could list fifty different reasons off the top of his head without actually thinking about them.

"And reporting the latest celebrity scandal does that for you?" Merlin raised one eyebrow, half a smile waiting on his lips.

"It's a step on the ladder," Arthur replied, frowning down at the photo of his father. That almost sounded like something he'd say. "And the horoscopes section does it for you?"

"It's a step on the ladder," Merlin echoed but he didn't sound as sure as Arthur did. "Though I'm not quite sure in which direction."

"Please, I'm sure generic comments about mysterious love affairs based on the ascendance of Venus made the day of every Libra in London last week."

Merlin looked him up and down before smiling. "When's your birthday again?"

Arthur swallowed. "That doesn't matter."

"Sure,” Merlin said with a knowing look.

"I got bored doing the crossword," Arthur admitted. "Not that it's any business of yours."

Merlin put the papers aside, making a clear space on the bed. "Give me your hands."

"What?" Arthur asked, automatically pulling his hands away.

"It's not all rubbish, I promise you. Astrology is a bit vague but there are character traits that are commonly found in each group that can determine how they are likely to react to different situations. For example a Capricorn will pretend to ignore any chance of a mysterious love affair just to prove the paper wrong, which means they are in fact looking for it, making them much more likely to find it. Whereas a Libra will probably stumble right into said love and go with it without a second thought to what the paper said.”

"So you're telling me one 12th of the population are suddenly going to start love affairs?" Arthur scoffed.

"Not exactly but if they're looking at their star signs, they're already hoping it's going to say something like that," Merlin brushed off with a shrug. "Hence the vague. They'll read into it what they want to. There are more personal ways to determine one's future."

"Like?" Arthur asked, hands coming to rest in his lap while he tried to pretend not to find it at all interesting.

"Palm reading, tarot cards, crystal balls, scrying stones, omens, a various list of hallucinogenics, animal entrails, it varies from culture to culture."

"And that's why you wanted my hands?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, nothing else was available on room service," Merlin joked, trying to take Arthur's hands again.

"Don't," Arthur decided quickly. "I don't want to know."

Merlin smiled victoriously. "You're scared?"

"No, I'm just not that stupid," Arthur lied. He didn't know what his hands would betray. Though he doubted there was a _I'm lying about everything_ line on them, he didn't want to risk it.

"It's fine," Merlin dismissed, pulling the papers back to the centre. "At least if you fear it, you believe it."

"Come on," Arthur said, standing up suddenly. "I can't sit here any longer. Let's skip the room service for once."

"Ooh, is that a date I see before me?" Merlin teased but he didn't refuse.

"So where did we meet?" Arthur asked, as they waited for their starters. They hadn't wandered far, only to the hotel restaurant but being out in the open, with Merlin, still made him jumpy.

"At work?" Merlin answered, sipping his drink. "I'm hurt you don't remember."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No I mean... you know what I mean."

"Let's keep it simple," Merlin suggested. "If you base lies on facts, they're easier to remember."

“So we shagged once at an office party, great,” Arthur said before he could stop himself. He looked sharply up once he’d realised he’d spoken out loud but Merlin didn’t seem to have paid much attention to what he’d said.

“Something like that,” Merlin said, nodding. “Let’s say we’ve been together six months. Longer and they’ll wonder why they’ve never seen us together, shorter and they’ll wonder why it’s meant to be such a big deal. Why hasn’t Lancelot been taken?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the sudden change of subject. “He’s single, I guess. I don’t know. I met him at uni, he only knows Morgana’s lot through me. The odd birthday party and graduation were the only times they met.”

“Oh, oops. Maybe we shouldn’t have involved him then,” Merlin said before nodding over to a waiter. “Food’s up.”

“Not involved him?” Arthur hissed at Merlin across the table as their plates were set down. “I bloody came out to him. You’re telling me that wasn’t necessary.”

“Believe me, it was necessary,” Merlin replied, not bothering to whisper or explain what he meant. “Now, what are we getting Lancelot for his birthday?”

Arthur glared down at his garden salad, wishing there was any other way to pull this off.


	21. Chapter 21

"Are you sure you're ready?" Arthur asked, finding it strange that for once, he wasn't the one being asked if he was ready.

"It's just a dinner, Arthur, not everyone wears a suit every time they leave the house," Merlin grumbled, running a hand through his hair in a way that entirely defeated the point of looking presentable.

"Fine," Arthur said shortly, tearing his eyes off him and focusing on himself instead.

He knew he was only picking holes in Merlin's attire because he was nervous. He'd grown oddly comfortable with it being just him and Merlin in their room, going over both his life and the case. It had almost become like he truly was introducing him to his family and friends. Which was good, he supposed, if he was buying into it then he could only hope everyone else did. The sooner they were accepted as a couple, the easier it would be for them to keep it up. Assuming they even managed to keep it up for a whole night, that was.

"Hand," Merlin said, extending his own, catching Arthur off guard. Before he knew it, he'd reached out and taken it, stepping to close the gap between them.

"If this is more of your magic nonsense," Arthur said to break the tension.

"Yes, it is. The ancient magical practice of hand-holding, commonly observed in people who are dating. Have you got the key?"

Arthur checked his pocket with his free hand. "Yes. Can we go now? We're going to be late."

Merlin smiled, dropping his hand so he could pull his coat on. "See, it's not that hard. We already sound like we're married."

"That's because you take longer than my sister to get ready," Arthur said without thinking. It really had become too comfortable. For a moment, he'd forgotten entirely why they were doing this. "Look, if it gets her back, I'll hold hands with you all the way there, just get a move on."

"I'll hold you to that," Merlin said, closing the hotel door behind them and taking Arthur's hand again.

Arthur knew he could let go, that they had nothing to prove to the hotel security cameras but he let it pass, trying not to let himself think about it too much. He liked the feel of Merlin's shoulder against his and the solidity of his hand. He just needed that little bit of comfort and familiarity before he was pushed into the unknown. That was all.

At the restaurant, it wasn't so easy. Every person that so much as glanced at him felt like a judgmental stare. He felt his skin prickle, sweat beading on his back under his perfectly pressed shirt. He wanted nothing more than to pretend he'd walked into the wrong restaurant but he couldn't. Lance had seen him. And he was smiling.

The weight on Arthur's shoulders eased slightly. Lancelot was still happy to see him, even though he'd been lying to him all those years. 

"Arthur!" Lance said, smile getting even bigger until he pulled him into a hug.

"Happy birthday, mate," Arthur said so that he didn't have to acknowledge anything that had been said on the phone. When Lance let him go and stepped back, introducing him to everyone else at the table, Arthur took a moment to take in everyone's reactions. A few looked startled that he was still holding hands with a bloke, a fact that startled Arthur a little bit. A few looked embarrassed or didn't know where to look. But for the most part, everyone just said it was nice to meet him.

Then it was his turn. He swallowed, throat dry despite the drink Lancelot had put in his hand. "This is my... Merlin."

He heard Merlin laugh behind him at the end product of his jumbled words but a quick nudge to the ribs sobered him up. "Sorry. Hi."

"We got you this," Arthur said, offering their shared gift to Lancelot. This time the word didn't stick. _We_ got you this. It was easier because it was true. Together they'd sat on the bed and trawled Amazon for hours, Merlin's head resting on his shoulder so he could see the screen properly.

"Thank you," Lancelot said before turning to Merlin. "And thank you, Merlin."

Lancelot held out his hand, shaking Merlin's, a look going between them that suggested he wasn't just thanking him for the gift. Arthur made a note to ask him about it later. Though what he would actually say was beyond him.

"I saved you both seats," Lancelot said, gesturing to the two empty chairs next to him.

"Yes, well, we would have been here sooner but _somebody_ had to do his hair," Arthur said, turning to give Merlin an _I told you so_ look.

"And somebody else had to break the hotel trouser press right in front of the mirror, didn't they?" Merlin said, eyes glinting as Arthur's glare intensified.

"That's a complete and utter lie, it was already broken," Arthur said, turning to Lancelot's friends. “Don’t listen to him, he writes horoscopes for a living. He’s used to talking out of his arse.”

“You do have a history with trouser presses, though,” Lancelot said before turning to the rest of the table and regaling them with the catastrophe that was trying to put a graduation robe through Uther’s trouser press and nearly setting the house on fire.

Arthur took the moment of distraction to sit down and take a sip of his drink, nodding, shaking his head and laughing when the anecdote called for it. Every so often, he’d glance at Merlin, grinning like the Cheshire cat as the story unfolded. He was probably only smiling because it was about Arthur cocking up on something he’d made a point of teasing him about already but Arthur couldn’t help but smile at his smile, despite that.

Talk moved on and dinner was ordered. With it, another round of drinks came and to his surprise, Arthur forgot that Merlin was only there to pretend to be his boyfriend. He found himself involving him in their in-jokes and before he realised what he was doing, he was doing an impression of Sophia’s high pitched reaction to finding out he was gay. Teamed with Merlin’s dramatic re-enactment of their _hello darling_ phone call, Arthur found himself almost choking on his beer more than once, despite the danger of slipping up and giving away the pretence.

By the time the check came, Arthur rather wished it hadn’t. He didn’t want the party to end. He didn’t want to leave this odd place where he could laugh and joke and not have to worry about anyone guessing the truth. Despite the fact Arthur had quite forgotten the real truth himself. 

“Hey, Arthur,” one of Lancelot’s friends whispered over the table at him while Lancelot himself was preoccupied by dividing the bill. “Distract him, yeah? Five minutes.”

Arthur nodded and tapped Lance on the elbow. “Fancy a smoke?”

“You don’t smoke,” Lancelot said, raising his eyebrows. “Neither do I.”

“A bit of fresh air then?” Arthur said, searching for a better excuse. “A chat?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lance said with a nod, as Arthur pushed the bill towards Merlin. “I think it’s about thirty five each.”

“I’ll sort it out, don’t worry,” Merlin said, catching on. “I’ll see you in a bit, love.”

Arthur nodded, standing, getting out his wallet and giving Merlin a handful of twenties. Enough to cover them both. Before he knew he was doing it, he was bending down to kiss him goodbye. It was only a peck, out of habit but he flushed all the same. “We won’t be long.”

Outside, Arthur almost wished he did smoke just to give him something to do, some valid excuse for why they had come out into the cold and the quiet. He knew what would happen, sooner or later, he was just waiting for one of them to say it. In the end, it was Lancelot.

“So, Merlin’s great.”

Arthur smiled, trying not to laugh. A little more than a week ago and he wouldn’t have believe that such a thing was possible. His best friend telling him Merlin, his boyfriend, was great. And Hell, that the same could be said for that if only half the words were together. Merlin and great. Merlin and boyfriend. Boyfriend and great. 

“Yeah, he’s alright,” Arthur managed to say under his breath, just in case Merlin could tell from fifty feet away he was being complimented.

“Arthur, I’ve not seen you laugh so much in years. I think he’s good for you. All of it, really, is good for you.”

Arthur knew he could pretend he didn’t know exactly what Lance meant but what was the point. “Yeah. I’m starting to think so to.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Lancelot said, hand clapping him on the shoulder. “I thought the day would never come.”

“You knew then,” Arthur said. It wasn’t a question, it was just an acknowledgement. No matter how many people he would tell after this that it was part of a case, only a story, he knew Lancelot would always know. And he was oddly alright with that.

“I knew you weren’t happy. Especially with all those girls you dated. I assumed you’d never found _the one_ which clearly, you have now.”

“Alright, great was pushing it but the one, really?” Arthur said, thinking Lancelot was pulling his leg. “Merlin?”

“Sure, why not?” Lance shrugged. “I’ve never known someone who could render you speechless, make you blush, make you laugh and inspire such a public display of affection out of you. Arthur, I don’t know how to break this to you but... mate, you’ve got it bad for him.”

Arthur’s first instinct was to scream _I have not_ but he remembered just in time that that’s what they wanted everyone to think. He didn’t have anything else prepared to say. All he had was a small part of him that was frankly terrified Lancelot was right. “Oh God, I have, haven’t I?”

Lancelot nodded in sympathy but he didn’t stop smiling. “If it helps, he’s hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you left him. Or for most of the night, to be honest.”

Arthur turned round, looking back through the glass window of the restaurant, catching Merlin’s eye before he quickly turned away again and pretended he’d been counting out their change all along. Arthur could tell Lancelot was telling the truth from the way Merlin’s ears had gone red and his eyes were defiantly looking everywhere but at him.

“If he’s the one, I’m fucked,” Arthur said out loud without meaning to.

“Welcome to the world of romance,” Lancelot steered him back towards the restaurant doors and back to their table, just in time for the cake to be brought out.

Arthur tried not to stare at Merlin, he really did but he couldn’t help it. If Merlin actually liked him, why didn’t he just say so? Why hadn’t he said something to start with? It was alright for him, everyone knew he was gay, he had nothing to lose by admitting to a silly crush on a co-worker. Why had he pushed him away when Arthur had tried to tell him how he felt after that godforsaken Christmas party? Why didn’t he say something now, as they got up and got ready to go, shaking hands with everyone before returning their hands to each other?

Arthur shook his head, as if he could undo all his thoughts like an Etch a Sketch. Merlin was just a good actor, that was all. He had Lancelot fooled, he had all his friends fooled and for a second, he’d even had Arthur himself fooled.


	22. Chapter 22

Back in the room, it felt a little less real. As though within the confines of the walls, the fact it was all a lie made it safer. Arthur looked into the mirror before splashing cold water on his face. Which lie was which, though? That was the question.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with wet fingers, he dismissed that thought. Every lie was just another variation on the one big lie, the one he was still keeping from Merlin. Merlin who was probably outside the bathroom door, wondering why he was taking so long.

He pulled himself together, rubbing the last drops of water from his face and hair with one of the snowy white hotel towels before reaching for the door handle, a well practised smile plastered over his face.

It nearly dropped when he saw Merlin, shrugging out of his shirt, his jeans already on the floor. Nothing but a thin pair of Calvin Klein’s, a pair that Arthur was oddly certain belonged to him, the only thing keeping Arthur from having a heart attack.

“So,” Arthur said, swallowing the lump in his throat that felt like a literal apple. “Lance liked you.”

“Yeah?” Merlin asked and Arthur couldn’t ignore the hopeful inflection in the word. “Good, I liked him too. He’s a good friend. Seriously. When I came out to my best friend, he made it about him, you know, like I’d betrayed him because I hadn’t told him sooner. How it upset him that I didn’t trust him enough to tell him. He refused to speak to me after that because apparently, I’d hurt his feelings. Straight boys are fucking mental, you know that right?”

Arthur stood for a second, at a loss for what to say. He almost turned around, to see if there was someone else Merlin was sharing that bit of history with but nope, they were alone and he had no clue what he was supposed to say. As an apparently straight bloke was he supposed to defend them? Sing Lance’s virtues for being better than Merlin’s friend? Apologise that Merlin’s mate had been a dick to him? 

“I’ve not noticed,” Arthur said, to be safe.

“Well, trust me, I could write a book,” Merlin said, perching on the end of the bed, gesturing at an imaginary group of people. “First, you get the ones that are scared it’s infectious, like it’s bird flu and they might catch _the gay_ if they stand too close to you. Obviously worse are the ones that think you’re an abomination of nature and will kick you as soon as look at you. Then you get the ones that think because you’re gay, you _must_ want to sleep with them and every other man in the universe. Which is distantly related to the ones that are bi-curious or in denial or flat out in the closet that think, _let’s fuck to prove I’m not gay or it’s just a phase or secretly because I have a girlfriend but it’s ok because you love cock anyway_ and act like you should be grateful they’re even letting you suck their cock. For the most part, though, you get ones that think it’s just a phase or you’re confused and that _hey, you’ve obviously never been in a decent pussy... have you not tried fucking a woman?_ then they try to take you out and throw you into the path of oncoming hen parties. But then on a very, very rare occasion you get one that goes _alright, you’re gay, pass the salt_.”

Arthur took a breath; again wanting to look around to make sure it was him Merlin was talking to. “Wow. Maybe you should write that book.”

Merlin laughed, looking down at the bed sheets. “Maybe I will. Once I’ve figured out the rest of them.”

Arthur unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt, pretending he hadn’t heard the last comment. He knew it was about him, about the mess he was making of his life but then, he’d never asked Merlin to do anything for him. Well, not since that office Christmas party that Merlin conveniently forgot about. And putting aside the fact he was helping him find his sister by pretending to date him and despite how Arthur had been certain he’d just make things harder, he was actually making it a little bit easier. Alright, so maybe he was asking quite a lot of him.

“How about the ones that haven’t even figured it out themselves?” Arthur said quietly, pretending to still be fighting the buttons on his shirt.

“Ah,” Merlin said, hearing him despite his efforts to not actually be heard. “Those are the biggest pains in the arse of all because you can’t even blame them for it, though you really want to.”

“Alright, that’s enough sociology for tonight,” Arthur said quickly, tossing his shirt aside. “Bedtime.”

“Yes, sir,” Merlin said but there was no weight to it, almost like he didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore.

Arthur sat down on his side of the bed, his back to Merlin but he felt him lie down behind him. He was getting oddly used to it, sharing a bed with him. 

He sighed to himself. Tomorrow would be easier. They had a few days to recover, to plan for the Stag party and to... what? Pretend they weren’t a couple? Maybe he was losing the plot, maybe that’s why he was sat, staring at a wall when all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe that’s why he opened his mouth.

“My father paid Morgana off when she came out. He gave her enough money so that she could function independently without him. So he didn’t have to feel guilty that he couldn’t even look at her or be in the same room as her. I think he would have locked her in her room and not let her back out again until she’d started _behaving like a proper lady_ had there not been laws against that. That’s his daughter. His illegitimate, second in line to the Pendragon empire, daughter. What do you think he’d do if...” Arthur cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder at Merlin. His face was still, his breathing even and his eyes closed. Arthur sighed in relief. “Never mind.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing back this ancient history for the prompt "Fake Relationships/Forced Proximity" at [Pornalot](http://pornalot.livejournal.com) in the hopes that I might finish it this time <3

“Wake up, I brought you breakfast,“ Merlin said impatiently, nudging the dead to the world lump, formerly known as Arthur, that was still in bed. The unofficial time off from work and living in a hotel had made them oddly lazy. Three solid days of breakfast in bed, dinner in the hotel restaurant and pay-per-view movies or suddenly remembered titbits in between. He elbowed Arthur again for good measure. Lance’s party had gone well but they couldn’t rest on their laurels tonight.

Arthur rubbed his hands over his eyes groggily. It was far too early for... he took a deep breath in. “Is that bacon?”

“Bacon, eggs, sausages, beans and French toast... but the toast is mine,” Merlin said threateningly, staking his claim. “You should have seen the maid’s face when I balanced this up that god awful staircase. I nearly went arse over teakettle twice. I’m pretty sure there was a cup of tea on this tray when I started but I fear it didn’t make it.”

“Alright, alright, stop yammering and let me have the bacon,” Arthur reached over and grabbed a slice from the tray as Merlin set it down between them. He stared longingly at the empty coffee pot. “I don’t suppose...”

Merlin sighed. “Bring you breakfast, make you coffee, pick your shirts up,” Merlin sighed as he bent down and collected up Arthur’s clothes from last night. “I really am your wife now, aren’t I?”

“Til death do us part,” Arthur mumbled around a mouthful of sausage. “Talking of, I really should prepare you for this stag do.”

“Please,” Merlin said, pushing down the plunger on the percolator. “I’ve been to plenty of stags before. Besides you said the groom was near enough a baby, what’s the worst they can do?”

“It’s not the groom I’m worried about,” Arthur said, still chewing thoughtfully as Merlin brought over his coffee. Just the sight of it nearly made him tell Merlin he loved him. It really was too early for breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: _"Since it is the month for spooks, I'm seeing Arthur is an investigator who gets called in on a case involving people exhibiting strange behaviours (donations of large sums of money, precious and rare items, writing over their fortunes then committing suicide soon after) and all are connected to these secret parties. Arthur is to go in undercover, the catch being, these parties are for couples only._
> 
>  
> 
> _Merlin is a paranormal consultant and Arthur's arch nemesis. He is called in on the case for his expertise and ends up as Arthur's +1 at the party._
> 
>  
> 
> _The parties are actually swingers parties hosted by succubus!Morgause who is using her evil sexy ways to bend men's wills to her own. Arthur is caught in her trap. The only way to break the compulsion is for genuine emotions to intervene and offer an alternative target to the unnatural lust. Good thing Merlin is there ;)"_


End file.
